St. Andrew’s Sidewalk

There’s a linden tree

          A sapling in an old city

Springing to adolescent height

          In the midst of a circle of silica

Speckled black flecked gray granite flags

          Ordered stones stretching away

Into Hiberian fog

          To the right and to the left.

Tell me, my silver barked youth,

          My limber linden friend,

What thoughts of Scots love

          Have you sown in drifted silvan leaves

Into my sister’s wide blue eyes?