Scotland/ Liam

Scotland
By Lindsay Flanagan

the frosts are falling around my face
and it’s grey outside, as within
but still you face the bitter cold
standing on the concrete porch
because we don’t have wooden here anymore
but still you bid me, come in

the waters turn clear in my hand
as I lean to cup it up, but it runs over
it slides between my fingers
watching it flow, impatient to leave me
because I can’t hold onto this anymore
but still you fold around me like a cover

and then I think of you, Scotland

and I remember grey and green
and the clash of it and the symmetry
of cobbled streets, disproportionate beats
of the sound of my feet on the soil
of the river’s shore, as if thinking of it
would bring me back to you

would bring me to you

and when I think of you, Scotland
I see tartans of memory
I see bloodlines pulsing through me
I see no knowledge of the barren
I feel only the deep dark abundance

of you, Caledonia

cloaked by the fog and wrapped
in the grey within, pulling you off
the front porch and slipping you
into the loch’s dark waves
because when I think of you, Scotland
there is nothing left of me to be saved

 

Liam

Liam is haunting my sleepless nights again
he flies in and out of them
like an angel with turbo jet wings
and his clear summer grass green eyes
I like these random meetings we have
in my mind

he should have been born in March
because there is something about March
I cannot escape him
I cannot escape you

there’s that scent that brings back the memory
of him when he leaned in and touched me
with his blue-veined, ink-stained, well-worn hands
I’m at his feet but his shoes aren’t tied, but then
he still sparks my interest with only a flick
of his writing pen

he should have been born in March
because there is something about March
I cannot escape him
I cannot escape you

Liam, it’s really dark out
are you walking alone?
it’s raining out, Liam
are you wearing a coat?

Liam, are you coming home?
the only way to ease this ache
is to write it out
you know I can’t breathe in crowds
a blank sheet helps me draw my air
your name is on it, Liam
but I still can’t find you there

Category: Poetry