The sun nipped aff for a fag,
an left the moon tae mind the shop.
Pure cheek, but that’s management for ye.

Folk spilled oot their doors
like it was the Second Coming,
staring up at the sky as if it had finally decided
tae dae something useful.

For a wee moment,
the daylight went full Glasgow nightclub;
lights doon, vibes aff,
everyone pretending it’s profound
instead of just astronomy happening again.

Then the sun swaggered back,
bright as a bawbag,
acting like it hadnae just been
shown up by a silent wee rock
that disnae even try.

A cosmic spectacle,
done quicker than your chippy order.