Marion McCready: One Poem

Marion McCready

Marion McCready lives in Dunoon, a small town on the Firth of Clyde, with her husband and two young children. She has had poems published on-line and in print in places such as The Edinburgh Review, Poetry Scotland and the Glasgow Herald.
Calder Wood Press will be publishing a pamphlet of her poems in 2011.

Cathedral Ruins at Night

Black spires rise out from the sea.
Through dark wynds I wander
under stones, eyes, stars.

Cobbled streets taper off to where
black spires rise out from the sea.

Conversations whisper in the air.
Stones, eyes, stars greet me,
repeat my name.

I name towers, shadows, cobbled streets
which taper off to where stone
succumbs to sand.

Somewhere on the North Sea edge
you sleep beneath these western minarets.
The sea bed is a catalyst of dreams

where stone succumbs to sand
and trees breathe
through leaves which hang like seaweed

in the air.
Through dark wynds you wander
in my dreams,

greet me beneath the spires, the priory,
the Chapter House.

You lead through cloisters
where the moon rises from the sea
and wind-driven waves surprise the shore.

Chilled to the bone, eyes closed, I see
black spires rise out from the sea.