Caravan

Here are the opening lines to a new composition ‘Caravan’, the inspiration coming from a walk along the burn one particular day when I came across a torn up Christmas card on the verge. It read To Lisa and the wee man and I began to wonder who they were and why it had been ripped up. The other point of reference came from a wartime  story I was told about an old bakers van that had been buried in a garden and fitted out with bunk beds for the eight children for use as an air raid shelter. So here’s the opening to the piece and a drawing that goes with the composition….

 

On the edge of town

a bone black fineness of winter air

licks the salty rime at the lip of last tide.

Bridge pilings punctuate the slaked

slipped clay

sooking the river toward the sea….