Friday, January 15, 2016

Poems&Pictures: Scotland (Remembered)

the frosts are falling around my face
and it’s grey outside, as within
but still you face the bitter cold,
standing on the concrete porch
because we don’t have wooden here anymore
but still you bid me come in

the waters turn clear in my hand
as I lean to cup it up, but it runs over
it slides between my fingers
watching it flow, impatient to leave me
because I can’t hold onto this anymore
but still you fold around me like a cover

and then I think of you, Scotland

and I remember grey and green
and the clash of it and the symmetry
of cobbled streets, disproportionate beats
of the sound of my feet on the soil
of the river’s shore, as if thinking of it
would bring me back to you

would bring me to you
and when I think of you, Scotland
I see tartans of memory
I see bloodlines pulsing through me
I see no knowledge of the barren
I feel only the deep dark abundance

of you, Caledonia

cloaked by the fog and wrapped
in the grey within, pulling you off
the front porch and slipping you
into the loch’s dark waves
because when I think of you, Scotland

there is nothing left of me to be saved