The Sunday Post

Hullo ma wee blog,

Connoisseur. {1977}

The rain makes a drumming on the roof
and a splish-splash on the road.
Nothing makes one sound only.

That cloud is a camel, a weasel, a whale.
Hamlet was right. Nothing
has only one appearance.

I collect
Your laughter, your talk, your weeping.
I collect your hundred of semblances.

I store you in the cabinet of my mind
I'm a connoiseur, in love with the value only
of priceless things.

Though my eyes blur, I look at these treasures.
Though my hands tremble, I touch them.
Though my heart grieves, I love them.

And a seed falls from a tree and
in its lowly cabinet sets about
creating forests.

Nornam MacCaig.