I have not spread my toes on the banks of Loch Lomond,
nor hearkened the call of the Northern shore, drowning in its boundary with the kelpies.
I have stepped on blue suede shoes
and been dragged in to selfies.
I've never tasted a pastry en français
perusing Parisian cabarets
never took a walk with la Seine by my side, smoking cigarettes in the hazy moonlight.
I have seen dolphins spend summer nights in the Tay, laughing along the Ferry Esplanade.
I have not seen New York scrape the sky
I have seen a lot of people scrape by
I have not witnessed a single display
compare with a simple act of the heart.
I haven't reached the end
I have made a start.
things taste better in French