Mother - by
Ye were ay a rowdy laddie, Jock,
Since ever ye cam hame,
Unco ill to bed at night,
And dour to wash and kaim.
mothers
Alzheimer’s - by
Chairs move by themselves, and books.
/ Grandchildren visit, stand
/ new and nameless, their faces’ puzzles
/ missing pieces. She’s like a fish
/
/ in deep ocean,…
X-Ray - by
Some prowl sea-beds, some hurtle to a star
/ and, mother, some obsessed turn over every stone
/ or open graves…
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…
I. Hall of Mirrors, 1964 - by
Quam angusta innocentia est,
/ ad legem bonum esse.
/ Seneca
/
/ It wasn’t a fairground so much;
/ just an acre of clay on old man…
Saying goodbye to my daughter at night - by
The sound down low, the impossible blue
/ of the Water Cube in Beijing filling the screen.
/
/ A young diver stands on the…
With My Mother, Missing the Train - by
She was always late. At the final minute
/ we’d run for the city train, which roared right past,
/ its line of faces…
Keeping Orchids - by
The orchids my mother gave me when we first met
/ are still alive, twelve days later. Although
/
/ some of the buds remain…
Spinning plates - by
My mother was mad as mercury,
/ mad as a silken Disraeli stovepipe hat
/ hiding a gypsum-white rabbit.
/
/ She once told me – the…
Màthair - by
Bha sinn a’coimhead nan rionnag
mus do thionndaidh sinn a-steach leis na coin,
is thuirt thu gum bu mhithich dhut
Last Night I Dreamt - by
Last night I dreamt of Mama’s house
/ But mama wasn’t there
/ Still her essence wafted through
/ As carried on the air
/ Her windows they…
From the Intestines of a Mystical Dog - by
My mother kept her Swiss watch in the remoteness
/ of the master bedroom, in her sacred wardrobe drawer,
/ in that handbag which…