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To
a Toun Tree
Your
ruits aneath the cauld flags
Whaur
naething grows but paper bags,
Frae
lums, that’s melled wi’ diesel smeek.
Hoo did ye ken?
Nocht
to seek, look up, look doun
But
grey wa’s o’ a grey toun.
Time
for a’ your braw, new gear?
Hoo did ye ken?
Primevera’
lichtsome lass,
Trips
athort the flouer-sprent grass.
The
causeway-stanes o’ this rough street
Wad
shairly bruise her denty feet.
Hoo did ye ken?
Gin
it was no’ yon bonnie burd
Was
it the spyugs that brocht ye word?
Or
did the traffic-dodgin’ doos
Aiblins
hae time to spreid the news?
Hoo did ye ken?
Hooe’er
it was afore my e’en
Your
sooty twigs are tipped wi’ green,
The
bravest gesture o’ the year.
A
ferly, freend, that gars me speir
Hoo did ye ken?
1962
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