PoetryAloud
Debbie Strange Reads
for Calum
they straggle out of their black-houses
silently greeting the peaty air as they untether their hopeful boats leading them like dogs to the end of the grizzled pier the sleep-fuddled sea rolls over and grumbles into the thickened waist of morning and the blue-breasted hills breathe in the slanting sighs of heathered moors hand-hewn oars slice through buttery water drawing and quartering the awakening sea with its insatiable craving for the rarefied taste of smoked and salty Lewis men with a careless wave and shrug of swollen shoulders winter’s teasing tongue of storm lashes out licking heaving decks flicking crumbs of frozen fishermen into the greedy bay wind-whipped dogs limp home and nudge the lamenting shore with torn sails between their legs without their singing masters and silver creels they bring no solace to the widowed croft |
a
"for Calum," read by Debbie Strange
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