By Roddie McKenzie
Haar on the Riverside
An unripe autumn sun filters
through a silk scarf of cirrus stratus,
a gauze sky afternooning,
over the burnished, bronze water.
Shadows creep over the tidal flats,
like patterned altocumulus,
in the drying sand.
Fife recedes into the mist
the black pegs of the railway bridge
converge into infinity.
Time divides in mid river
against the gauze screen.
The film rolls.
I strain to see Viking galleys
plundering upstream
to sack Perth.
History leaks out of the landscape,
the weather
is a shrewd director.
—————-
Roddie McKenzie 19/9/14