The Pool

The auld ootside swimmin-pool
Absurd next tae muckle sanstane boilins,
Survivors o mony storms an gales.

Its watter,
Sic wondrous dark brouns;
Velveteen glory
O the colours metres beyond the surface;
Bladder wrack, seaweeds aw
In motion yet gless on the tap.

Bodies flat,
We wid be human divin-boards –
The real anes long gone –
Starin intae it beyond oorsels.
Wi orange lines an braw roun lead weights
Huntin began.

Greenies, shore crabs gluttons fer limpets
Soukin the life oot a shell-less bodies,
Legs scuttlin in the air:
Hooked.

Aince, bairn met forebear.
Feart an dumb wi bluid chirnin,
Action fae instinct;
the conger itsel a yong ane
Bent, whipped, thrashed on the waa,
Twa o us swallied by its een;
Hooked oorsels,
Baith fisher and fish released;
Escape, unmarked but bloodied.

Scuil library:
Those clock hands draggin
A hand tae Gunn’s Highland River:
Discovery – a master oot fer the hunt.