Marion McCready: Where The Dead

Where the Dead


Cloud-shadows darken the windows. 
             In an upstairs room I watch the city glide by.
                         The gulls have followed me to Wet Paint city, where you live, 
                                         in a Fairtrade sky. 
 
 bloodied, wing-bent, 
 the white-backed gull runs 
 dragging its hung limb
 
 
 *
 
 Berry-reds burden the thin air 
             in the hills above the Clyde. 
                        She has a calling into the darklands, 
                                    tumbling through the air... the taste of seaware rising...
                                                the parachute of her hair.
 
 “ma mam, she’s as high as a kite 
 and ma nan, she’s finished wi’ me. 
 Am sorry… Right?”
 
 
 *
 
 Broken trees on the train track
         (ON TIME). Bricked up windows, 
                  the gray crimes of the town wash into the Clyde.
                         A white dog prowls, the hills of Kilkreggan 
                                  growing across the river.
 
 if the world revolves, 
 the clouds I see
 are the clouds of yesterday
 
 *
 
 Daffodils, pale, washed-out rags. 
             Ivy-wrapped trees. The rail track, a wasteground, 
                         a derelict graveyard. They exhume bodies 
                                     to build a road.
 
 I left you in peatland
 marshmoor and the Minch
 where the dead in Christ shall rise 








Marion McCready lives in Dunoon, Argyll. Her poems have appeared in a variety of publications and anthologies 
including The Edinburgh Review, Northwords Now and The Glasgow Herald. Calder Wood Press published her pamphlet 
collection, Vintage Sea, in 2011.

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