He cannot bring

He cannot bring his friends either,
the fun they had together,
how they were always there
for each other.

He cannot bring the way
he bundled up against
the cold, leaves
his duvet behind.

He cannot bring his favourite
TV programmes, he’ll miss
Missing, Top Gear
the Simpsons.

He cannot bring the taste
of Franco’s: salt on chips,
Edinburgh brown sauce,
grease on the paper, fingers.

He will not be bringing
the sound of the school bell,
will miss the relaxing drips
of rain against the window.

He cannot bring the view
of Edinburgh Castle from
his back-room window, the view
of uptown from Granny’s kitchen.

He cannot bring his best
sandwich from Subway,
the secret sauce,
its perfect cookies.

He cannot bring the haar
the way his football
goes missing, how half
the Forth Road bridge disappears.

He will not miss the silent
tramp with their single
bell, the way they
sneak up on you.

He cannot bring
the feel of the button
on the bus that makes
the driver stop.

He cannot bring the Scottish
accent, the ayes and lassies,
or the smell of grass
when it’s cut.

He cannot bring the rain,
the way it drums off the hood
of your jacket, or how the cars
splash on their way past.

He cannot bring the sound
of the sea, the whoosh
and crash of it, the way wind
carries the water forward.

by Declan, Gabby, Jonathan, Marcus, Mohamed and Reece