Kesson Country

The dark land of the farm lies buried under snow Glittering like mica, black trees in the sun Cast long blue shadows Kesson country, where Jessie Grant McDonald Born in a Highland workhouse Came, via a Skene orphanage, Cornhill Asylum and marriage To drudge as a cottar’s wife Winter has made for the earth A quilt of frost, bare but beautiful Needing nor seeking any ornamentation A lone bird trills in a thorn It is peaceful as the grave After the cries of troubled souls In the locked wards of the town After the squalid grunts of her mother’s Clients, coupling in an Elgin slum The dark lands by Fyvie, empty and cool Lay in her mind like a balm, an outstretched virgin Untouched, pristine and calm