It’s the wrong way up the other plug, a-
cross the glacial groove that left the Forth
to slither through the grazing plain, washing
off or buffing up the remembered wounds
that coerced this kingdom.
lived statue is long gone, a knave-hearted jibe
at the past. But his tower holds the fort
for all that the English need to see be-
low and from the parapet. Each sandstone
step could stand for another betrayal.