Killochries E-Book

Jim Carruth

• Herausgeber: Polygon
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 34

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

A verse novella by Glasgow Laureate Jim Carruth, Killochries tracks the relationship of two very different men working a remote farm over the course of twelve months. A young man is sent to work at Killochries, a farm belonging to a relative, after burning out in the city. He is appalled by the absence of his previous life's essentials, by the remote strangeness of this new world. The old shepherd has never left the hills; has farmed them all his life. He doesn't care for the troubles of the modern world, trusting only in God, and greets the incomer with taciturn indifference. Through weeks shaped by conflict, hardship and loss a new understanding grows.

Leseprobe

KILLOCHRIES

Jim Carruth was born in 1963 in Johnstone and grew up on his family’s farm near Kilbarchan. He has published two collections and nine chapbooks, starting with Bovine Pastoral (2004). In 2009 he was awarded a Robert Louis Stevenson Fellowship. His work continues to attract both praise and awards, winning the 2013 McLellan Poetry Prize and, in 2014, the Callum Macdonald Memorial Award. Killochries, originally published in 2015, was shortlisted for the Saltire Society Scottish Poetry Book of the Year, the Seamus Heaney Centre for Poetry Prize and the Fenton Aldeburgh Prize for first collection. His follow up, Black Cart, came out in 2017. Jim is the current poet laureate of Glasgow.

KILLOCHRIES

Jim Carruth

This edition published in Great Britain in 2018 byPolygon, an imprint of Birlinn Ltd

West Newington House10 Newington RoadEdinburgh EH9 1QS

www.polygonbooks.co.uk

First published by Freight in 2015

Copyright © Jim Carruth, 2015

ISBN 978 1 846974 62 5eISBN 978 1 788851 62 6

The moral right of Jim Carruth to be identified as theauthor of this work has been asserted by him inaccordance with the Copyright, Designsand Patents Act, 1988.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication DataA catalogue record for this book is available onrequest from the British Library.

The publisher gratefully acknowledges investment fromCreative Scotland towards the publication of this book.

Typeset in Verdigris MVB by PolygonPrinted and bound by TJ International Ltd, Padstow

For my mother and father

Margaret Carruth (1938–2008)Harvested love from all the seasons of life

Robert Carruth (1937–2013)Cared for all who breathed upon the land

AUTUMN

In autumn

I come to the hill.

At the road’s end

a rough track follows a contour,

climbs

for a mile and a half

to a stop.

I clamber the tied gate;

bale string wraps this farm.

Hens search

for hidden treasures

in the midden;

shit speckles the yard.

On the barn roof

weathered rafters

peek out

between clumps of slates.

An old bath trough

catches water from a broken rone,

a rusted tractor beside it.

From the byre

a cow bellows,

chains rattle,

a collie barks.

I face the farmhouse –

its peeling whitewash,

boarded windows,

open door:

Killochries.

Reflections on a Shepherd

I. SCARECROW

I catch him first

on the skyline, facing away:

St Francis of the crows

in a skewed bunnet,

a misfitting winter jacket,

an old pair of dungarees

flapping around his frame

in the wind.

His outstretched arms

send a shadow

across a barley field

strangled by weeds.

From where I stand

he barely resembles a man.

Sae ye’re the wandert yin

o oor Lizzie’s bruid.

He looks me over –

a new ram

he might bid for

at some local market.

His scowl is fixed,

regretting the favour

for a second cousin.

He tuts and turns,

expects me

to come to heel.

Behind closed doors

he changes his mother,

gives her clean warm sheets,

props her up on a cushion

for my introduction.

She does not speak,

presents only a vacant look.

I offer less in return.

Pleasantries over, we eat in the kitchen

but not before a prayer of thanks

he delivers as I watch –

the mottled head slightly bowed,

wrinkles on his closed eyelids,

blistered lips,

his rough hands clasped.

On the table,

the steaming potatoes cooling;

a large helping of mince.

Three collies –

Glen, Cap, Meg –

seven hens,

two cows,

a calf,

his sick mother.

Tomorrow,

the flock.

II. PREACHER

And at night

he shows me

his one book:

a large family bible

thrown open

on the table.

He reads out verses

from Genesis 48:15

through to Revelation,

tells me shepherds

walked their flocks

across both testaments.

Meagre faith:

a man content

with one God.

St John 10:11

I am the good shepherd:

the good shepherd giveth his life

for the sheep.

To his

morning call

I mumble a reply,

stagger behind him

as he heads to the muir,

collies at his heels.

Out of breath pause

look back at his farm

perched on the edge.

Far below,

the valley floor.

What welcome for me:

dark bog and gorse,

the itch of midge and tick,

the veering wind,