The Road’s End - by
Ower the hills by Lauderdale
/ The road swings lang and free;
/ And, eastart by Pencaitland,
/ It brings ye to the sea;
/ By Dalkeith and…
mortality
On a Birthday - by
Time, why are you going so fast?
/ I like not furious paces.
/ Milestones glimmer and then are past,
/ …
As Time Draws Near - by
As time draws near
/ the end of our days
/ and the plates fall
/
/ away from our knees,
/ let us not be…
Struidhealachd - by
Nuair a bhios mi air leabaidh a’ bhàis,
/ b’ fheàrr leam gun rachadh agam air a ràdh
/ gun do chosg a’bheatha gu…
End Matter - by
i. You’re at the postscript stage,* I read.
/ …
Bucket - by
Phrases for the end are throwaway.
/ ‘Drop off your twig.’
/ I quite like that –
/ cock an eye at heaven in mid-song
/ and…
Timor mortis conturbat me - by
Will it give me six months warning
/ Or come when least expected?
/ Will I trip over it one morning
/ And find…
Heaven - by
A croon, a harp, a bonnie sang,
/ Wi’ naething tae dee but tak’ wir ease,
/ An’ still-an’-on we’re loath tae gyang –…
Èigh Dheireannach - by
San Departure Lounge airson
/ Barraigh ‘s Beinn a’ Bhaghla,
/ Cailleach thapaidh leatha fhèin a’ feitheamh
/ Ris an èigh dheireannaich
/ Agus guth gu h-àrd ag…
The mechanisms of the gin - by
Sixteen teeth, set
/ in a lurid, iron smile.
/ Chained to the earth, anchored
/ into black soil, nonetheless
/ its everyday, simple grin sustains itself.
/
/ Its mouth…
The Scotswoman who married into the Home Counties - by
Like tweed like pearls
/ like fire like wood
/ like loss like Listen with Mother with me
/
/ Like prayer like water
/ like a Scots laird’s…
The Poetry Reaper - by
sitting in The Scotia
/ after John McGarrigle who-
/ was-killed-in-The Clutha’s funeral,
/ wolfing
/ triangular tuna sandwiches
/ and listening to someone singing
/ We Shall Overcome
/ into a feedback microphone,…