Broken Arrowheads at Chilmark, Martha’s Vineyard - by
Glint of white quartz on the pale cream sand,
/ Or sparkle of worked stone, red, black or green;
/ The eye, unwillingly trapped,…
prehistoric remains
Camas Tuath - by
Pink sand and sandpipers pink in the setting
/ sun and pink granite and the pink swirl
/ of green waves: no mediterranean relics
/ here,…
A Memory of Death - by
Nineteen fifty six was a momentous year,
/ The year of Suez…
CSI - by
A dyke like her who’s been around the block
/ a bit has heard it all before. Volcano, somewhere
/ near the Tropics, unexpectedly…
The Water - by
River names are the oldest,
/ the first things in a landscape.
/ So many times they simply mean The Water.
/
/ And the ones we…
Head of a Young Woman - by
Five thousand years between us, and yet
not a moment, it seems – recognition
like that spark you’d know how to strike
from stone.
guthan chalanais - by
1
/ seallaibh sinne
/ dh’èirich às a’ mhòintich
/ far an do chaidil sinn
/ tro linntean dìochuimhn’
/
/ an-diugh nar sgeinean maola
/ gearradh an àile
/
/ 2
/ chunnaic aon t-sùil màthair…
Abernethy - by
Air-psalters and pages of stone
/ Inscribed and Caledonian
/ Under these leaf-libraries where
/ Melodious lost literature
/ Remembers itself! A white
/ Dove climbs on its Columban flight
/ In…