When Day Is Done
Sorrow remembers us when day is done.
It sits in its old chair gently rocking
and singing tenderly in the evening.
It welcomes us home again after the day.
It is so old in its black silken dress,
its stick beside it carved with legends.
It tells its stories over and over again.
After a while we have to stop listening.
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Iain Mac a’ Ghobhainn
Iain Crichton Smith
Iain Crichton Smith was raised on Lewis and much of his poetry is grounded in the strict Presbyterian culture of the island, and his protest against it. He wrote both in Gaelic and English, novels, short fiction and poetry.Iain Crichton Smith
