Donald Adamson Poetry Blog

My collection 'From Coiled Roots' is out now. For a foretaste and possibility of ordering, paste and click:
http://www.indigodreamsbookshop.com/#/donald-adamson/4576369650

(The weather in Scotland is controlled by wee invisible goblins. Mostly they are malevolent, but relent sometimes.)

Weather Workers

Our ways are inscrutable.
Don’t ask us how it’s done.
It’s our tribal custom –

not done lightly
and never on demand.
There are no written instructions

on how to make the mossy walls
respire, a daily cycle –
heat in, heat out –

slow-breathing in the company of cows.
On sultry afternoons we gather
in meadows, shadowy hollows

and hush the woods to small, complaining sounds:
‘tch’, ‘ks’ – minute flexings, fallings,
from untraceable directions.

We are exorcists who cause the sky to be
unhaunted. You will know it
by the sudden, uncanny rise in the temperature

as in this gale-scoured land we create
this miracle, this new-hatched thing,
a summer’s day.