Poems
Cove Park (West Coast, Scotland)
I've taken
to the lochs
like a wild swan:
the peat hills
the heather honey,
the herring
silver darlings,
my housing pod
with claw-foot bath
and blue wash basin,
oatcakes
and a jar of haggis
in the cupboard.
The blaeberries
are beginning to ripen,
the Downey birch
has blossomed.
Tartan words keep flying
around my head.
From the verandah,
a lucky green ship
on Loch Long,
four Highland cows
horn deep
in bracken,
mallard on the pond,
the medication
of black-faced sheep,
the sound of my blood
pressure lowering,
a strong lamp to read
George Mackay Brown
a nest
of white feathers
to sleep in.
Big Blue Gum
Eucalyptus globulus
Lightning strike veteran
weakened by dry rot
the sky dropped its jaw
when your arms
full of birds
split apart
like a piñata.
As your giant trunk released
pre-flight parrots
arborists felt the vibrations
of a thousand songs.
Your glaucous green leaves
fell like feathers
branding the ground
with antiseptic scent.
Ring-tailed possums
thrown from their nesting cavities
wailed into ribbons of bark.
When the last of your living tissue
powdered the air
the aftertaste of your nectar
lingered.
Ladies in lace-up shoes
The bakelite lamp shines on
our icons of primary produce.
In their eighties
the tearoom ladies
of the Country Women's Association
still carry trays of clotted cream scones
and pots of Bushells tea
to laminex tables
where paper doilies sit under
centerpieces of flowers
and framed pictures of the Queen.
To
catch the scent of april violets
from their hankies
glimpse their hair
prim, like topiary
feel the frill of their aprons
brushing past
breathe in buttermilk cake
out of the oven
without a rack mark
gaze upon prize winning pavlovas
light as white wings.
And what of their other skills.
Goodwill and scones
served in a hot tin shed
at Tennant Creek
to refresh scores of soldiers
before the march
into the Darwin invasion
Friendship and alms
to drought stricken farmers.
How they talked them
from going to the top
paddock, with their guns.
Our heroes at the Tea Rooms
will take their recipes
for custard creams and light
cinnamon sponges up with them
into a perfectly risen sky.