Glasgow I

When I think about 
Glasgow I think
about gantries and
cranes, shipbuilding, of the
smell of tar and
metal, of sparks
flying and girders
walking through the air
I think of things I have
never seen yet seem
to have been born
in my blood
being here -
in this sturdy city
sretching out across
the river and becoming
gleaming glass and
high science towers
it will last the
forever beyond me -
this steely, dirty,
city of poverty and
boulevard, of grass 
and trees, of gold
against the blue in
winter, of the Kelvin
and the new bridges
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