The Glass-hulled Boat - by
First come the jellyfish:
/ mauve-fringed, luminous bowls
/ like lost internal organs,
/ pulsing and slow.
/
/ Then in the green gloom
/ swaying sideways and back
/ like half-forgotten ancestors
/ –…
21st century poems
Meadow Lane Riffs, Edinburgh - by
A punk thistle with mauve mohican
/ nods to its own beat and the riff of leaves,
/ traffic, sirens and sea-gulls.
/
/ Buccleugh Parish School…
Cherry Time - by
It is light past seven when the door bell rings.
/ In no time ago we went
/ …
Visitation - by
In pride of place on my work-surface
/ are an ink-well of weighted glass
/
/ and a black quill-pen, presented to me
/ when I left…
Four Directions - by
for and after Gael Turnbull. 3 July 2004
/
/ The garlic bulbs burst
/
/ bolt to attention
/ gone to seed-blossoms
/
/ long stems rise upwards
/ twirl and curl…
Like - by
The fog that is like but more rare
/ The wind that is like but not…
Transparency: An Address - by
Civil society, must we visit you the hard way?
/
/ Our diplomatic baggage gets lost in transit.
/ We don’t read much now except…
Creatures - by
For weeks we watched a spotted flycatcher
/ tenant the garden like a summer guest.
/ We didn’t see the other birdwatcher –
/ grey squirrel,…
Between - by
I lie awake
/ listening to the wind.
/ There are metaphors and
/ metaphors but none
/ to put up this longing
/ for my new love.
/ The house creaks…
Two haiku - by
that daft dog
/ chasing the train
/ then letting it go
/
/
/
/ dumb bumblebee
/ bumps the windowpane
/ again again again…
My father’s hand - by
I like to wear a band around my wrist,
/ an amulet of copper, links of bling,
/ a hippy weave of cotton…
Wormwood - by
for Don Paterson
/
/ A flight of loose stairs off the street into a high succession
/ of empty rooms, prolapsed chairs and a…