GORDON Jarvie sets his poem in a setting familiar to generations of Glaswegians - though in summer rather than dreich November!

The piece comes from his new book - A Man Passing Through, an autobiography with poetry, covering a life ranging from student days in Dublin to mountain climbing in Scotland, and retirement in Fife (Greenwich Exchange, £16 99).

WALKING IN THE BOTANIC GARDENS, GLASGOW

(for my sisters, Carole and Pam)

I think about the folk that went before,

led full lives near this place but are no more.

I picture two small girls astride a brand-new shiny trike;

one's sixty now and getting wobbly on her bike.

The sun still shines, the clouds still race and pass,

the flowers still bloom and lovers lie upon the grass.

The traffic on Great Western Road is constant now,

and I am old and sport a wrinkled brow.

The same trees stretch their arms towards the sky;

They've kept their figures better far than I.

I watch a toddler run beside his dad;

why do they make me feel alive and glad?

Maybe because in them I'm forced to see

life's onward cycle, for - not once but twice thus far -

that toddler and his dad were me.