Certain women. And some young boys.
/ Women with some uncertainties
/ but something they knew about
/ that made them need to say something.
/ Two of…
Except for Iain, who looks both found & lost, / already haunted by his own baffled ghost…
A lifetime of work to own a house / then you end up diminished by it.
Sassoon, the elder, Sunday golfer; / Owen, bookish, gangly, pale – mingling / with the queue for the refectory.
the light comes back
the light always comes back
Three thousand miles and nearly half a year
/ Away from a drab November afternoon, hysterics
/ Of friends forgotten, and also the plain…
Twenty year beddit, and nou
/ the mort-claith.
/ This suld gar ilk ane grue,
Remembering Tessa Ransford, 1938–2015
/ When Gavin circulated the news
/ I shed a tear or two that early autumn day.
/ What else…
No piece of art is perfect. / All it has to do is stay around / for two hundred, or…
Atween November’s end and noo
/ there’s really nithin else tae do
/ but climb inside a brindlet coo
Such as into Himself at last eternity changes him, / the Poet with a naked sword provokes / his century…