3am Kelvingrove Park

Winter darkness.  Distant streetlight.
Down here, cigarettes glow like lighthouses.
You wait, stiff and alert,
For footsteps, for a signal,
that secret code of recognition
that will bring the feeling back 
to a heart desensitised with longing.
Frost makes Glasgow 
look as clear as a coastline.
In countless bedrooms,
sleeping couples are entwined like twins.
Safe.  You wish it was you.
Then you wouldn't be here
waiting for someone to save you
from drowning in unbearable solitude.

Scott McFarlane