At My Father’s Funeral - by
Didn’t we think, for a moment,
of crushing his feet
so he couldn’t return to the house
at Halloween?
the dead
Epitaph - by
For 2nd Officer James S. Montgomerie of the S.S. Carsbreck,
/ torpedoed off Gibraltar, 24th October 1941
/
/ My brother is skull and…
La lluna i la primavera - by
no escrivim sobre la mort només sobre la vida
/
/ els morts no escriuen
/
/ com tampoc el pollastre que ara és a la…
Ned Black’s Dream - by
The Misses Nelly to the Burgess surgeon!
/ This very night, a performance
/ Of dissection – flexing leg, belly, supple loin and eye…
Requiem - by
Under the wide and starry sky,
/ Dig the grave and let me die.
/ Glad did I live and gladly die,
/ …
The Year of the Whale - by
The old go, one by one, like guttered flames.
/ This past winter
/ …
‘When you see millions of the mouthless dead’ - by
When you see millions of the mouthless dead
/ Across your dreams in pale battalions go,
/ Say not soft things as…
Rooks - by
There, where the rusty iron lies,
/ The rooks are cawing all the day.
/ Perhaps no man, until…
The Painter Fabritius Begins Work on the Lost Noli Me Tangere of 1652 - by
I
/
/ This is the myth we chose to do without;
/ and surely the painter imagined the garden he shows
/ as…
My Grandmother’s Love Letters - by
There are no stars tonight
/ But those of memory.
/ Yet how much room for memory there is
/ In the loose…
Aunt Julia - by
Aunt Julia spoke Gaelic
/ very loud and very fast.
/ I could not answer her —
/ I could not understand her.
/
/ She…
Reaching Helmsdale - by
If it weren’t for
/ this red tweed jacket
/ I bought in Brora
/ I might well wonder
/ if we’d ever gone
/ north of Inverness.
/
/ We shouldn’t need…