The Wanderer’s Song - A Wee Note On Collecting Fragments And Memories
March 11th, 2012 DougWhile I was working my way through some notebooks and texts as part of researching for a current project, I picked a book off the shelf on my workbench. The book was ‘Atoms Of Delight’, one of the titles in the excellent Pocketbook series produced by Alec Finlay and Morning Star Publications.
Tucked away in the back cover of the book I found a piece of A4 paper, with a small sequence of hand-written haiku by my dear friend and collaborator, Valerie Gillies. The haiku were for a reading at the opening of an exhibition I was having at the Netherbow in Edinburgh, and brought back many wonderful memories of of our travels along the Tay and journeys through the Scottish Borders.
As a young art student in Dundee in the 1980’s, I was introduced to Valerie, and that meeting led the way to the fantastic journey I have been on in the world of art and poetry. That journey continues on today, and I feel very lucky to be allowed to work with so many talented and creative writers.
I tucked the small piece of paper safely back into it’s book, and I’m looking forward to the next chance uncovering of a fond memory from this wanderer’s voyage.
SEVEN HAIKU OF THE ELEMENTS - a sequence for Douglas Robertson 11th November ‘92
The wanderer’s song:
the sun rises over one ridge
and then another.
* * *
Mairi’s flight-case
is heavy with one stone
from the island.
* * *
A stormy morning:
the grey clouds are standing still,
the sun zips about.
* * *
On the tower roof
between stone slabs and blue sky
I write, star-brushing.
* * *
Windy this morning:
clouds branch out as they travel along,
creaking like trees.
* * *
Tides bring seawater in
underground to the pot blow-hole,
hiccup of the earth.
* * *
Electric globes
on poles point to the moon:
peer past to see her.
* * *
This flint arrowhead
is a cockerel’s footprint
from the dawn of fire.
