Christine De Luca

Shalls

Der lempit shalls aa alang da banks,
as if da birds wis hed some kind o foy
or shörmal splore. Some ir roodery,

tick is an auld tumb nail; some slicht
is finest china, nearly see-trowe;
da outsides ruckly, maistlins aa da sam.

But turn dem owre - der ivery shade:
white, bleddick-coloured, green an blue
an mustard. Some hae lacy aedges,

some wi a luik o plaid, an ivry een
wi his ain horse-shoe mark whaar
da flesh wis fastened; lik as if

a thoosand peerie ponies hed linkit
oot a dem an left der clivmark, or
fun dem in a secret ocean smiddy.

Hit seems wir med da idder wye
wi a pooer o ooter differences at can
divide wis; mak wis kinda wary

een fae tidder. But if we seek instead
da inner space o neebirs, we fin wir
maistlins aa da sam: a dunt fornenst

a harned haert, an wir laid in akker.
Hit seems wir shall, wir hoidin place,
is little wirt. An wi da mark o Cain

apö wis, we hearna da voice o da blöd
o bridders; nor see da faemly lickly
at micht a minded wis at wir his keeper.

Christine De Luca, Luath Press, 2005