Someone moving down on the rocks,
Torchlight flashing at the end of the Blocks.
Girl on the Plerick down on her knees
Hammering copper nails into all those trees.
Sound of digging, a man hard at work,
Caught in the moonlight by the side of the kirk.
Small boat lying just offshore,
Another message pinned to the windmill door.
Winter has blanketed the caravan site,
Everything’s dark, except for a single light
Newark Castle bathed in an eerie glow
What’s burning up there? Best not to know.
Sea Queen crying by the wall of the school,
A single rose thrown in the tidal pool.
Beach littered with ash and nails,
Someone in the coffee shop telling tales.
White van on the east pier, driver on a call,
A package hidden between the creels and the wall.
Ruckus broke out on Braehead last night,
Everyone just pulled their curtains tight.
The fishing has gone, and it won’t be back,
Just like Rush and Mathers, Easton and Jack.
They are in the shadows at the end of the pier,
Yesterday is fading, and tomorrow is unclear.
But…
I don’t want to leave St Monans.
I swear,
I just don’t care
To go
Anywhere...
Else.
January 2022
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