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  • For Bet Gaitherin Strawberries
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For Bet Gaitherin Strawberries

Alastair Mackie

The rain was sliverin on the windae pane
when you gaed oot tae pick strawberries,
reid pockit moons, for the denner table.

There ye were, on your hunkers in the weet,
fingers ficherin amon the dried bleed
and green o the leaves. The net’s tent flap twisted

in a fankle. Your airm was a swan’s neck,
raxin oot and pykin amon the berries
wi strae pendants plattit roond their reets.

Your face was set, sun-birstled, douce-lookin
my dear. Ye michta been a peasant quine
in some Russian laird’s kitchen gairden,

Elizaveta Alexandrovna,
i the time o the Tsars. Or the goddess
o earth, close to the grun as your fit-soles.

The Italianate helmet o your heid
(wi the weive o siller thro the slae-black)
hings like a black sun abeen your wark.

I staund and watch ye thro the smirry gless
eident and bou-backit and still bonny,
and the haill poem says like some hubberer

‘I love ye’. Ye cam back ower the chuckies
and only when your een meet mine, ye smile,
haudin the bouwl’s brazier o strawberries.


Alastair Mackie

from Collected Poems 1954-1994 (Two Ravens Press, 2012)

Reproduced by permission of the Estate of Alastair Mackie.

Tags:

fruit Love marriage observation Poetry By Heart Scotland post-1914 portraits Scots Scots strawberries
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Alastair Mackie1925 - 1995

Alastair Mackie has been called the best and the most underrated and woefully neglected Scots-writing poet of his generation.
More about Alastair Mackie

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