solitary confinement

long days in a walled garden
the sun leaves behind its shadows
and the wind begins to warm
unexpected and so soon

Gowk

Apryle cam an wi' it
thon heidsman, a gowk himself,
that, lang afore the month began,
had proved himsel mair o a gype
than ony gaen afore.

Wonder

Time
slides like a river
largely unannounced except for
the sound of air drawn down to stone
and set free as erosion scours
the river’s bed.

Black Haun an the Weaver

Coin spun the air aroon’t an fell on the blue tattoo.
Black Haun cleek’t his bluebird ower the silver’t nickel.
He bade Chaunce to spik afore the Law steps in
tae spik o gravity, averages, diminishin returns.

then there is mystery

then there is the mystery
of upward-falling rain
how eyes become prisms
bending tomorrow’s light