Who calls to the dark, / who calls to the wind on / the surface of the water?…
My only talent lay in these.
/ My father rubbed his hands together,
/ stared as though their whorls held codes
/ of thirty years obstetric…
There is no need they say
/ but the needles still move
/ their rhythms in the working of your hands
/ as easily
/ as if your…
Jesus wis a jyner – lang lang syne,
/ In Joseph’s shap, in Nazareth,
/ The laddie ser’d his time.
/ He wrocht the bonny…