Sheena Blackhall Poems

1.The Robin’s Nest

Guid day noo bonnie Robin, an whit dae ye hae here?
A nest I’ve bigged wi muckle care frae screivins far an near
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Do you know what it is to be poor?

I was paid 1 anna
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1.The Museum of Curious Objects, San Marino

Loiter in St Marino’s curious museum
Admire Venetian aristos’ platform shoes
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1.First Wird

Fin ye are waukent
Dae ye takk tent o the souns o the warld?
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There's no smoke in the lark's house
Stones never kindle a fire
April showers are sweet and cool
As honey on the briar
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1.Aiberdeen Herbour
Aiberdeen herbour,
Tarry watter
Seagill skirl
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On the hill, conkers had split
Small, failed Caesarians

Rags of mist hung on the trees like dishcloths
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Who killed our sons
Both the Tommies and Huns?
Us, said the guns.
We killed your sons
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I am passing through Wales on a coach
I am looking for marks of Welshness
(Apart from the signs such as Mold (Yr Wyddgrug)
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It’s pencil-scrawled, the bus’s destination
As if the actual journey might be arbitrary,
Uncertain, an Odyssean travail.
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