Here’s a skin to begin
to win on – taut
wi da tug o aathin du nivvir lairnt.
Here’s a fraem ta hing
a future on – nekkit
ta winds at blaa nae annsirs.
Here’s a cushion ta faa,
ta watch rushin up at de time an agien.
Here’s a blast at isna past hit.
Here’s a winter warmin up.
Here’s da rod tae da empty forest.
Here’s da fitprints washd bi da sea.
Here’s a skin to begin to win on – taut/with the tug of everything you’ve ever learnt. //Here’s a frame to hang a future on – naked//to winds that blow no answers. //Here’s a cushion to fall, to fall/to watch rushing up at you time and again. //Here’s a blast that isn’t past it. /Here’s a winter warming up. //Here’s the road to the empty forest. /Here’s the footprints washed by the sea.
About the writer:
Christie Williamson is from Yell in Shetland. Since 2003, he has been writing, publishing, and performing poetry in his native tongue of Shaetlan and in English. His first collection, Oo an Feddirs, was published in 2015 by Luath Press. He lives in Glasgow where he runs Tell it Slant Books.