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 /…
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…
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…
on the senses - by
little saints buried saints
/ finally kissed by the earth
/ lilies from your parched mouths
/ from your salt lips
/ rise white and…
Praise of a Man - by
He went through a company like a lamplighter –
/ see the dull minds, one after another,
/ begin to glow, to shed
/ a beneficent…
The Book of Belongings - by
The book of belongings of those found dead
/ lies open across my lap. I cradle it and look and…