Cape Wrath

(i)
Dark moon
Cape Wrath

Am Parbh
Turning Point in Norse
The turning point east
The turning point home

Oh! the welcome change in rhythm
and the welcome change in song

Homeward bound! Homeward bound! Homeward fucking bound my brothers!
Homeward fucking bound!
I can taste the sweet and salty crevices of my missus
within the sea spittle which stings my split and scabby lips
and yet sings and dances upon my hungry tongue

(ii)
In the middle of the night
the wind switches source
and my safe, still hollow of sleep
within the westward lee of a long granite wall
is ripped open
by a new and restless north-westerly
which pits its wits against the grumpy fog of my sleepy head
until I muster a surrender to its hectic summons

Unzipping myself from my warm-blooded and familiar cocoon
I stumble out into a bewildering night
and four recurrent, insistent shafts of lighthouse light
which scan the sea with faithful and penetrating weight

Beneath the fog horn’s silent trumpet mouth
I perch and hunker against the Siren call
of wind and cliff and sea
trusting neither the balance of my body nor the balance of my mind
in the face of such indifferent gravity

(iii)
Later, recocooned in sleep
an eagle tears its talons through the canvas of my dreams
wings as strong as sailor’s rope
tail fanned and tipped with white sea-foam
head and neck crooked as a hungry vulture

As long as you do not know who you are, he screams
You will always watch the world through the anxious eyes of the hunted