I wanted to tell you

to stop where the road curves

at the crest of the hill

over into Kaimend,

before it tumbles you

running down the far slope

and on out into the carse;

to pause and look back.

For this is a time you

will want to remember,

the passing of which you

will regret, when you rest

at the Medwyn Bridge and

turn back your eyes to Carnwath.

But you are still young;

the distance behind you

is short, and the future

long like the ribbon of

the Newbigging road that

the sun in its rising

has let fall across the river;

you would not look back

even at my calling.

For your sight is fixed on

the farthest horizon,

and the prospect before

you does not yet contain

that figure on Medwyn Bridge.