Friday, March 3, 2023


The threid that reeled him in
has brocht me oot –
oot o the nairra mask
o thirled weys
tae the clear licht o day.

I spied him wi the lassies,
dandlin them on his knee,
mou-mapplin thir breists
like the great bairn he is.
Braw suitor for the King’s dochter!

But heroes hae thir yuises.
I ticed him atween
cauld stane wa’s, doon
an doon tae the centre
o my black dreid.

Derkness like midden reek,
beast swite an bluid –
ae stroke o the bricht blade,
ae skirl tae split the wa’s.
The beast wis deid.

Noo I sit here on Naxos,
mangst myrtle an hinnied thyme,
an watch his black sail slide
awa doon the sun’s track
tae the warld’s end.

Barefit I’ll gang my ain gait.
The hairst is come.
Frae maumie vines
wild music springs –
an I wid learn a new daunce.

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