Forty Two

One more stone on water
One more leaf down the rill
Slow passage as you fought her
Floss, off the scent on the windowsill

One flat film of still cold water
One lazy cloud in the sky
A singular path as you caught her
Gossamer flight into rye

One barbed wire, then one other
Another field beyond the field
One long journey as you brought her
The dragonfly who you thought would yield

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Forty One

Breathe in
Feel the cool air
Sit
Feel the warm air
Breathe in, sit
Feel the cool air, feel the warm air

Breathe out
Feel the warm air
Sit
Feel the cool air
Breathe out, sit
Feel the warm air, feel the cool air

Breathe in
Feel the cool air
Sit
Feel the warm air

Breathe out
Feel the warm air
Sit
Feel the cool air

Breathe in, sit
Feel the cool air, feel the warm air
Breathe out, sit
Feel the warm air, feel the cool air

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Forty

Because we can shape the land
We do shape the land
Because we can hear the helicopter
We do hear the helicopter
Because we can lose the top off of the pencil
We do lose the top off of the pencil

Because we can we do
Because I can I do
Because, can, do

Because I see the shimmer on the sea
I smile, I look again, I look again
Because I see the haze on the distant hill
I smile, I look again, I look again
Because I see the birds as they warble
I smile, I look again, I look again

Actually now I listen
I listen, I hear the birds
I listen, I hear the tractor
I listen, I hear the breeze
I listen, I hear the pencil on the paper

Actually now I write
I write, I watch the shadow
I write, I find a rhythm
I write, for no one in particular
I write, to say, that I too am not discarded

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Thirty Nine

Across Stromness harbour
Reading the Month of May
From George Mackay Brown’s
Calendar of Love

Watching the collection of seabirds
Move hither and thither
Splash, paddle - back and forth
Wash, preen - all around

At one with the seagulls
At one with the squawking
Most of all, best of all
At one with the sunshine, with the settled sea

Listen, listen closely
Listen to the voice
Reciting a poem to the ocean
Practiced, to quell the impending storm

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Thirty Eight

Out in the sun
Out in the post-modern midday air
Watch the coaches arrive
Watch the coaches depart

The parcel delivery man
Delivers the parcel
In the very same way
That all delivery men do

Yet, perhaps not in quite such a hurry
No, not wearing such a grimace
Nor demonstrating time’s pressure
In quite exactly the same way

Out in the sun
Out in the post-modern midday air
Watch the world pass by
Watch the time take time a little longer

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