EUNICE BUCHANAN

"Ariadne"

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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.