Andrew Johnston

Splinters

For William Johnston, born William Coutts, Brechin, Scotland, 1865


Born, at least.
A little light
in the east.

What was registered
is legible —
Braik’s Close —

the light
breaks close.
What the records

said. A little
light
about your head.

º

Jean,
her mark,

at the
paper mill:

acres of paper —
imagine her face —

acres she tills
and leaves

no
trace.

º

That streak natured
or nurtured —

a little sorrow
handed down —

bother in Angus
and anger and sadness —

it stows away
and is stowed away —

a branch broken
in Brechin.

º

The field I think slopes slightly
and the man who stands there

holds himself upright —
it is an act of will

against all to which
he might be inclined —

life lived as a slight —
instead of this the light.

º

Force the door with
this, his certificate —

that he raised himself
into the furrow that runs,

as I think of it,
across his brow.

Author’s Note

Sources

Previous section.

Next section.