Wonderful to have work rolling in, at this rate I will be able to add new posts every day... keep 'em coming! Today we have our first submission from Louise Terry on the Isle of Cumbrae; she has been joining Water Story via email. And then Helen takes us roaming... in her own inimitable way.
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
The first death on the island ...
by Louise Terry
Roaming
by Helen Elsley
We have always taken trains.
when our city came too close about us, packed
the car, with boots tumbled in the footwells,
hailed the Skyeways bus from the end of our road
to the Uig ferry, started adventures with
the safety announcements in English and Gaelic.
We took off, treading the bog-myrtle into sharpness,
or placing our feet,
to keep from crushing Grass of Parnassus,
in its gentle wind tilt on Faraid Head.
We swam in gasp-cold sea
and soft lochans that made our Scottish skin
look browned, and our steps sink
in warm peat silt.
Now we walk the hospital grounds
and look out to the Kilpatrick hills
larger than life, on the city edge
where the skylarks will soon circle up,
above our absent, upturned heads.
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
The first death on the island ...
by Louise Terry
Roaming
by Helen Elsley
We have always taken trains.
when our city came too close about us, packed
the car, with boots tumbled in the footwells,
hailed the Skyeways bus from the end of our road
to the Uig ferry, started adventures with
the safety announcements in English and Gaelic.
We took off, treading the bog-myrtle into sharpness,
or placing our feet,
to keep from crushing Grass of Parnassus,
in its gentle wind tilt on Faraid Head.
We swam in gasp-cold sea
and soft lochans that made our Scottish skin
look browned, and our steps sink
in warm peat silt.
Now we walk the hospital grounds
and look out to the Kilpatrick hills
larger than life, on the city edge
where the skylarks will soon circle up,
above our absent, upturned heads.
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