Please note: This poem has special formatting. You can see the original in PDF format.
Wir bodies are stories.
Hers is freshly scrieved.
Saft an swak wi newness.
Mine’s a bitty teuch, wi a
“bin aroon the block”—ness.
She is easier tae read.
Nae secret self swirlin roon her
een. Insteid, some fierdy wards
set in amber: nivver hud ontae
a moment langer than it lasts.
I waatch her filter the warld
through that wee broon neb.
Ahin a nuvelty. Ivry olfactory
receptor a hame fur opportunity.
A curious tongue keeks oot,
slaikin ower fresh possibilities.
The wye her body meets ilka
day, hiz learnt me tae
slow
doon
an
sniff oot
adventure
in
the maist
familiar
corners.
So we tak wir bodies an wir stories
fur a wak. An we mak the warld
mair whole an newer. A callerness
sets ower the auldest routes I ken.
We traik them, again an again.
Blithe, glaikit, and content
tae spy summin new
in ivry sauchelt neuk.