Water taxi
she leaves in a varnished
water taxi that scuds
along the city’s waterways
then surges out
into the flat and still lagoon
and when they are both back
they speak on the phone
and he tells her:
he stood on the city’s edge
watching her boat
power across the water
in the washed winter sun
until it merged
into the horizon’s pale blue haze
and she remembers turning back
to see the city shimmering
lemony in the lagoon
the snow-capped mountains behind
and taking that picture
home with her to keep
Published in Poetry Scotland