sitting in The Scotia
/ after John McGarrigle who-
/ was-killed-in-The Clutha’s funeral,
/ wolfing
/ triangular tuna sandwiches
/ and listening to someone singing
/ We Shall Overcome
/ into a feedback microphone,…
How does she feel? Hey, girl, did it feel strange / To be waiting for the a-changing times to change?…
‘Tha tìm, am fiadh, an coille Hallaig’
/
/ Tha bùird is tàirnean air an uinneig
/ trom faca mi an Àird Iar
/ ’s tha mo…
A fine player was he …
/ ‘Twas the heather at my knee,
/ The Lang Hill o’ Fare
/ An’ a reid rose-tree,
/ A bonnie dryin’…
Mirknen haps a rummelled broch
/ on Houlland’s knowe, rowes hit
/ in a twilt o lavendar: saft smored
/ as a Danish…
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…
