Guest Poems

Sack and Sugar Let us imagine Falstaff as a cake. He sits there, a great cherry-in-a-chair,and lets us watch him, studying outhis layers. Fruitcake, sure, in allits connotations, thumb-pressed throughwith candied peel or currantsconcealed like other people wouldhave...

The Rooks of Stromness It’s plain the rooks of Stromness own the town.They’re taking over slowly, plot by plot.These black and clever birds have been aroundforever, roosting high in trees. They’ve caughtthe change and flown on it. Some surf the breezethen flap to keep...

I Will Walk Before it Snows Somewhere in the sky the heavy lightness of snowwaits. I snap my knees again hope my trouser beltkeeps me whole until I reach home. My spine tries to balance on the legs, allow yawnsto grow through my windpipe, then release into the skyas...

Geese One of the first things I can remember:being lifted by my father high to see the geese.It was late at night in mid-November:the days so short, fields beginning to freeze.Now I live close to the sea in the west –small hills and lochs, and birds on every side;so...

Crossing It’s two strangerscrossing a bridgein opposite directionsover a dried-up river.And the sun beats downon the back of oneand in the face of the otherand as they passthey are holdersof the moment. One stretchesout her hand,the other takes it.They clasp each...

Returning to the Island you see nowwhat you missed the first time children playing in the streets, barking dogs,balconies of bikes, flowers, shirts dryinglike this Boats bob uncertainly in the harbour The sun is going downtaking the day with it – children, dogs,...

Polishing his Shoes My father visits me from deepin the cupboard of my memory.He sits in the kitchen, Sunday’s papers spread out on the floor before him.There’s a waft of turpentine as he popsthe lid off the tin, dips bristles in wax and I hear the reassuring sweepof...

Questions on a Hill  I climbed Cat Bellson the first day of winter:mist above and below me,sleet in the air. The view of lakes and islands,green and brown and silver-grey,was wonderful.No-one could tell it true. I want you to wonderwhy it is that men climb highto feel...

Here I Stand Here I stand for I can do no other,tied to my neighbours, my enemies, friends,cousins and siblings, ancestors, offspring,pushing and shoving and reaching for light,building up brawn and strengthening sinews,bartering messages, crisscrossing limbs,digging...

Crossing the language divide We commit to speech as we do to a bridgein the faith it will bring us to the further shorewithout cracking, in the faiththe further shore is where we want to be.What if our words shape themselves differentlyin the listener’s ear, distorted...

On the Cusp of Climate Change Days are like thimbles now, full of small needs,whatever works, potluck, making do.I plant aloe in clay pots on the porch, arugula,orange nasturtium, parsley because it matters.I am a woman walking under the fan palmsunderneath the desert...

Goldilocks and the three percent inflation rate Three bowls of porridgeall differing in sizes,her silver spoon risesto herrosy red lips.She sips.She gulps.She convulses. Porridge icylike her harsh moral code.Three skinny bears,return to their humble abode. Fur ragged...

Writing in Ice It gets harder to claimthe lie of few summers livedwhen so many wintershave taken their toll. The deceiver fools you.More fool you. Writing in ice on frozen bonecontusions of ruptured words,mortality’s woundson the immortal soul. The reaver robs...

Gap ione birdfor weeks the young boy saw one bird on every wire iiyesterday, it fanned its tail feathersand he felt his growing bones reacta shared balancing act, a mirroron the northside of the citydown as far as the dock bridge iiiwhere yesterday toohe saw an otter...

Winter in these parts We lug paving slabs onto wheelie bins,Coax the smaller animals into the spare room,Sling frayed hawsers over outhouses and hen coops.Glacial swamps appear from underground.We cradle our children from school, weight them downWith rocks, free up...