A pinched little lad was Gordon

hemmed between church

and a sterner wall of Scottish hills

his face squashed his mouth

too tight for smiling.

 

Except when he played

with his toys, counting out

his paper money and his soldiers.

 

His face ballooned then

puffed out grins and gurgles

as he ordered his shiny soldiers

up to the top of some distant hill

and left them there to rot.

 

 

 

kj 8nov09