Tucking my arms around <br />My curled up legs <br />I sit by the edge of a copse. <br />On a hill overlooking <br />The shorefront <br />I can see for miles. <br />Orange light <br />From the streetlights <br />Drifts <br />Out to sea. <br />Shadows of friends I once knew <br />Dance across the town. <br />My eye follows the river <br />Until shadows blur; <br />Doonfoot, Alloway, Forehill. <br />Night grows close. <br />The peaks of Arran <br />Rise through the failing light <br />As urges come and go; <br />the water ebbs and flows, <br />like a distant voice <br />Calling out <br />From the streetlights <br />Down in Alloway. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />20 04 08 <br /> <br />This poem was gleaned from a short story I wrote not long before; which i have since posted under the same title.<br /><br />Mark Andrew Hogg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/down-in-alloway-20-04-2008-author-s-pick/
