Ninian's Way, Isle of Whithorn
Angela Blacklock-Brown his sent in this movin poem for awbodie tae think on. The sense o place is strang.
Ninian's Way, Isle of Whithorn
At the back end o hairst
atween Lammas an Martinmas
Solway watters heeze an hurl
an skelp the craigs
Sea gusts pirl pebbles,
sook shingle frae the strand.
Yon wind is illkyndit
It wallops air, gress an
the hair o a wumman
glowerin oot ower he sea.
Aside the sate,
scrieved on stane
sieven names.
'Did ye ken them?' she says,
'Aa young yins, aa freens,'
'The sea gies an taks,
gies an taks.
Twa sons an a nephew.'
Ah nod an turn tae
the chaipel wrack...
Ninian landit on thon strand,
lowned the jaws, merked
brochs on the saund.
Crummock in haund
he gaithered fairmers an
fishers tae the faith.
Yon winter wus
a tide ower far
tae stell the watters.
Angela Blacklock-Brown (August 2011)
