Document 608

A Keek intae the hospital kitchen aifter the appointment wi the O.T.

Author(s): Maureen Sangster

Copyright holder(s): Maureen Sangster

This wis a lang drawin o a wey o life:
I sa sair shadows beatin a fite tiled wa:
Fan blades owerheid - tae me like sickles,
Yet like the pechin pulsation o a muckle trapped bird,
An like lobster I sa aince that crawled,
Wi agonisin will, claws upon the slidderie ice
Amang aquatic companionship, bit deid:
Goamless fish on the slabbed windae
In a fishmonger's shop in Stockbridge;
It wis despair I felt wis flyin
Ever mair trauchled throu the air.
Bit nae birds were bein biled ava!
We dinna eat great birds in Scotland.

Insteid, there wis the hint o fish:
The weemen wi hair up in net caps
An skinklin aprons made me think o days gaun by,
O herring queans guttin. An those eesome ghaists, fish-scaled
Were veesitin, the blin oors o Daith forgot
The mobiles o their jeel-cauld hans
Doon noo in the holie o the kitchen,
Reddin up, helpin oot.

I hud a sort o yearnin for the lilt o the job,
Trays bein straiked aff, the slubbery
Fleer swept then scoured
The wappin orange crates heized high,
The hygienic jimp gloves -
Fingers like marrow inby fingers -
I wes begottit! The pooer o the place.
A stramash o a domain
- wi rules, pouin oan ma hert.

Nae bletherin or dirdum amang
The clatter o wheels o whurlan trolleys,
Skoosh o watter in tomb-size sinks.
Fowk werena wastin Time
Bit were mairriet tae him
An huddin him tae the tide o dishes!

To hae a place in the scheme o things,
I thocht - a blinkin sliver o Chance
Afore Daith packs ice roon me.

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A Keek intae the hospital kitchen aifter the appointment wi the O.T.