PoetryAloud

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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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