Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Crofter's Kitchen, Evening

How's this for a piece of description? You're there, you can see that room, hear that dog.


Crofter's Kitchen, Evening


A man's boots with a woman in them
Clatter across the floor. A hand
Long careless of the lives it kills
Comes down and thwacks on newspapers
A long black fish with bloody gills.

The kettle's at her singsong - minor
Prophetess in her sooty cave.
A kitten climbs the bundled net
On the bench, and, curled up like a cowpat,
Purrs on the Stornaway Gazette.

The six hooks of a Mackerel Dandy
Climb their thin rope - an exclamation
By the curled question of a gaff.
Three rubber eels cling like a crayfish
On top of an old photograph.

Peats fur themselves in gray. The door
Bursts open, chairs creak, hands reach out
For spectacles, a lamp flairs high...
The collie underneath the table
Slumps wit a world-rejecting sigh.


Norman MacCaig

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