Roderick Manson

Observations Of A Stromness Cat

I see
a seven-eyed poet
like the street
to stain his sheets
with ghosts
that history
does not see.

He swims
a narrowing circle
of calm,
in the empty sounds
of a world
that fills its days
and nights
with noise
more vacant
than the desert wastes
of silence.

He knows
that which threatens
but still denies
that enemy
the power of the name,
each dark
is a fingerprint
in the human night,
and alone.

He sees,
in a shattered skull
and a flesh-flayed torso
with iron
to the dying-tree,
that simplicity of light
that connects
and cleanses
and heals.

In a seaport
straggled on the ebb-tide’s wane
he and I
echo the fishers
with lazy economy,
each trading
from the essence
of ourselves.

Copyright © Roderick Manson 2014

Roderick Manson climbs mountains and writes poetry, often at the same time.  He lives in Blairgowrie with a cantankerous black cat called Schrodinger.


About sunnydunny

Poet, publisher, gardener
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s