Heel tendons knew they were walking downhill.
Bodies slanted backwards. To fall that way
Being the likeliest. Arms swaying dangled,
As if lazy puppeteers slept above.
Was it an Edinburgh street or wet lawns
By the Rhine I am half remembering?
They were smiling wide, all crazy in love,
But not with each other. Their shoes so squeaked
That the sound kept them in downward glances.
But mostly it was Princess Street’s grey line
Or the straightened river they saw, pupils
Trembling at another group walking up.
I do forget, but would not now forget,
If they met those others or wept in pairs.

Steve Walker
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