Ah’m stravaigin
atween weengs o hill
an ma hert is fou.
Though I ken for this glen
there are a thoosan ithers
as timeless, as bonny
tae the fowk wha stey there,
their herts blithe
tae be daunerin uneath skies
fu o burds, by oceans mebbe
or trees ablaw
that seem
tae jab the cloods.
As Ah walk Ah imaigin us,
the saund fowk, the shaw
fowk, the glen fowk,
as yin people,
walkin through the hert
o the wurld- we feel
its green veins as brickle
as oors, as thin
as quick, as weeng
an bluim.
Awtho we hae
oor ain luwes an peths,
there maun be an airt
we can forgaither an cant,
we fowk o the hert.
The hert o simmer mibbes,
while simmers last.
Hugh McMillan
Hugh McMillan is a poet from south west Scotland with eleven collections of poetry and many awards. He has appeared on radio and at Literary Festivals, most recently in performances at the Stanza International Festival, Wigtown International Book Festivals in Scotland, and the Edmonton Poetry Festival in Canada. His latest collection Diverted to Split has just been published by Luath Press.