these are someone else's memories that now extend to mine of strawberries.
The most vivid memory snapshot of him I possess comes from long before then: one Saturday night in Glasgow in the 70s, after the pubs had closed, I boarded a bus heading out west. The upper deck, as always, was a genial riot of drinking songs, Frank Sinatra tunes, Danny Boy and the rest. In the middle of it all, hands clasped on his lap, sat a silently smiling Edwin Morgan. (James Campbell, The Guardian, 20 August 2010)
Edwin George Morgan, poet, born 27 April 1920; died 19 August 2010.
Amongst these words, some of his own. How could it not be the Loch Ness Monster song.