r2vyln3rdioj14u-rld0ska where mountains meet the sea: Radio Scottish Democracy

Radio Scottish Democracy

You hear an old man scratching himself
Before he gets up at Kinlochmoidart.

You tune in to a woman in Lima, yawning.
You listen to what hasn't happened yet, the shout

That is still just an intake of breath;
Straining so hard, your imagination

Becomes a microphone for the future.
A new voice starts to come unjammed

Against a rout of white-noise, Floddens,
Cullodens, nostalgias that rhyme,

When kilties went roaring over the grass,
Fell on it, let it grow through them.

You pick up words moving - towards or away?
Reaction times quicken. Is that it? Listen -

Not to dour centuries of trudging,
Marching, and taking orders;

Today I have heard the feet of my country
Breaking into a run.

Robert Crawford, from Talkies (1992)

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