[This poem, on the influence of childhood on the choice of English or Scots, came joint third in the 2014 McCash Competition. 'The Sheddae' means 'The Shadow'.]
THE SHEDDAE
They ask me, whit’s
yir gemm,
scrievin a
poem in Scots?
Since Ah
didnae speak Scots as a wean,
wuidnae hiv deigned
tae speak the
wey they spoke (the scruff).
Yit the leid wis
aw aboot me,
in the swappin
o comics and cowboy annuals,
talk o fechts
and fitbaa
and lassies,
and makin babies.
It’s different
noo, the souns Ah hird then
hiv fauldit
thirsels thegither like a cloak,
hapt thirsels
intae a shape
at the edge o
ma sicht,
stappin lichtly,
whooshin alang, a sheddae,
a thrawn,
persistent ghaist.
And Ah think,
in the back-end
o ma life it’s
time
tae look him
in the een, greet him as a frien
and say:
Forgie
me, but Ah ken yir voice –
vowels
strecht tae the point,
consonants
as haurd as a haundshake –
and
Ah hope ye’ll condescend
tae
brek silence
and
exchange a word or twae,
comrade-like,
on this bit o the road.
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