First Long Walk after Convalescence
(Fair Isle)
The blue cross on the Sumburgh plane
is stretched in the wind.
Skylarks are drilling holes in the sky.
An irritation of midges
and the hazy static of bog-cotton
blur the Dunlins Sink.
The Burn of Fursie is shrunk
to a slit in the bog, pock-marked
by water-beetles balanced on prongs.
Hovering, like a brown mote
in the corner of an eye: the bonxie –
a dislocated shadow.
The valley opens in a shock
of raw light, cumulae billowing,
the ack ack of gulls.
At each step, a further juddering view:
the Peerie, the Muckle,
the Mid Heads o’Yesness.
But no views of geos, or caves.
The Wirvie: nothing but sheep turds,
rabbit droppings, scrag heather.
No spectacular blow-hole spoutings.
No churning voices
from the Kirn o’Skroo.
Only the yellow algae on Golden Water
shining a fools’ blessing.
Ahead, the North Lighthouse –
and below, O Stack,
Peerie O Stack,
the jagged fins of the Slithers.
Stephanie Green has an MPhil in C/W from Glasgow University (2004). This poem appears in Flout, her pamphlet inspired by Shetland landscape, folklore and culture, published by HappenStance, 2015 and launched at StAnza. Originally London-based, she moved, via Wales, to Edinburgh in 2000. http://sites.google.com/site/stephgreen1/
Note: Bonxie (Shetlandic) – Great skua