John
Aitkenhead
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Peter D Wright
Pale gowd the stibble
Gowd the stack yaird.
Blue the lift and clear
The flood watter i the field.
Green
daurk green the holly glints an weet.
White the snaw-drift skinkles yet
Bidin deep aneath the beech hedge reid,
Reid the tile drains on the brae face.
Promise o warmth or memory fond
Simmer ahint or Spring ayont
Kenna the black cattle on the whinny knowes
Or the patient kye
I the deep shiny glaur by the gate.
1965
