Benediction
From Caplaw Dam –
Old Patrick Water
ravens down the Braes.
Brakes in sodden meadows
by Leitchland Farm
then stumbles onwards.
Pushing wooden wheels
in the dream world
where carpet factory thrived and
slab boys became old hands.
Slides under the road away
from Stoddards and skirts
green reedy pond. Rushes
loudly now. A plastic pail
slaloms as I watch and then
wings off along a touch-line.
Hurdles the sticks through
secret tree-lined tunnels,
plashing ritual drops of burn
on trailing branches. And
then, when service ends,
heads for the Black Cart.
Pete Stuart
