Another night
succumbs to copper.
Morning swallows sentinel light
in the hospital car park.
Incoming weather is dark.
His flickering lids
journey the geography
of sixty-seven summers,
come to rest on condensed light:
distant as heather honey.
I blow thirty-two winds
of the mariner’s rose
upon his cooling skin, slack
like a sail’s empty belly.
Life changes tack.
The music of monitors
steps up a pace,
as his timpani slows
then holds low C.
I turn on taps to drown
the downpour of relief.
……………..
Morag Anderson lives in Highland Perthshire, Scotland. Of Hebridean heritage, she was brought up on fireside stories and late-night kitchen tales. The relationship between landscape, language, and family influences her writing. She was placed in the Blue Nib Chapbook VI Contest 2020, performed at StAnza Poetry Festival 2020, was shortlisted for the Bridport Prize 2019, won Over the Edge Poet of the Year 2018 and the Clochoderick Prize, 2018. Her work appears in several anthologies as well as Popshot, Skylight47, The Scotsman, Nutmeg, and the Corbenic Poetry Path.