Easter 2017

I believe this one is as close to an Easter poem as this old Buddhist can get. It was published in Sushi & Chips (Diehard, 20016). The place that inspired it was St Abb's Head. I was watching the guillemots on the rocks, and it occurred to me that the word for the red-legged guillemot is the same in Shetlandic and Icelandic - Tysties. They are special birds..

Tysties

(St Abbs Head)

Guano stains run down-rock

almost to the line

greened by sea-surge.

Shell-Grip, courtesy of barnacles,

roughens landing pads.

Neighbours sense snack-time,

whirr away, arrowing waves,

fly through their thicker element,

stab, engulf small fish

whose ends know no salvation.

A pointed egg rolls on rock

ledge, falls or is saved,

pouched and warmed. The choice

is the wind’s, or the gusting gull’s.

Meanwhile, taut in his tree,

the lanced man stiffens,

circlet of barbs, fly-crust,

selects himself, victim and victor.

She pictures him,

tries to work out

how it all fits, as if it should.

Between ‘can’ and ‘must’

is a Poisson distribution

with ‘may’ on the curve’s

culmination. No guarantees,

no certainties, no knowns

but the ocean’s vastness

and life’s shortening odds

against the blind beaks.