Tuesday 6 August 2019

Tuesday Poem: "On the pier at Kinlochbervie" by Norman MacCaig


The stars go out one by one
as though a bluetit the size of the world

were pecking them like peanuts out of the sky's string bag,


A ludicrous image, I know.


Take away the gray light.

I want the bronze shields of summer

or winter's scalding sleet.


My mind is struggling with itself.


That fishing boat is a secret

approaching me. It's a secret

coming out of another one.

I want to know the first one of all.


Everything's in the distance,

as I am. I wish I could flip that distance

like a cigarette into the water.


I want an extreme nearness.

I want boundaries on my mind.

I want to feel the world like a straitjacket.

by Norman MacCaig


For more information about poet, Norman MacCaig, see:


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