the eild o shauchlin -
sneckin frae the slae
a stieve nibbie




the age of shuffling -
cutting from the blackthorn
a sturdy stick

auld buits -
sonnet o a vaig
in ilk runkle




old boots -
tale of a journey
in each wrinkle

throuch the gless
a furst wesp
...gyte it ma finger




through the glass
a first wasp
...rages at my finger

hame
tae a reeng o bricht nebs:
pinkies




home
to a ring of bright faces:
primroses

weshin
at fou sail -
merch wund's bumfelt chowks




washing
at full sail -
march wind's puffed cheeks

granny's tuim hoose -
heicht-merks
scartit on the standart




grandmother's empty cottage -
height-marks
scratched on the door-post

voar watters -
the priest hidlinswise
daubs's rheums




spring waters -
the priest secretly
dabs his rheumatism

follaein
the coorse o the sin -
the auld dug pechs




following
the sun's course -
the old dog pants

frae lowe
an dashin atoms
...doverin i the boo o ma airm




from fire
and clashing atoms
...asleep in the crook of my arm

clabbydhus
on the leet:
thair seelant skirlin




mussels
on the menu:
their silent screaming

tentie o the sea
runklin the strand -
disjaskit




watching the sea
wrinkling the shore -
feeling my age

valentine's day -
the priest's
mis-airtit mail




valentine's day -
the priest's
mis-directed mail

agein faither -
cleidit
in crottles o fuid




ageing father -
dressed
in fragments of food

dreepin brainch -
a bead it a tyme
bleckie dichts hissel




dripping branch -
a bead at a time
blackbird washes himself

abuin the swaws
lown o a lane

maw




above the waves
calm of a solitary

gull

on gruein watters
swans' gentiness
...waarmin




on icy waters
swans' elegance
...warming

fouin the feeder -
stour
o speuggies' weengs




filling the feeder -
storm
of sparrows' wings


(Mainichi Daily News)

throu Mass -
the weet's turnt
tae snaw




during Mass -
the rain's turned
to snow

bowsie an brucken
oot wi the troke -
fernyear's dall




bent and broken
out with the trash -
last year's doll

droont i the brandy:
flee
oor furst-fit




drowned in the brandy:
fly
our first-foot