A Bestiary
Rat’s-tail, Cat’s-tail,
Mouse-tail, Fox-tail,
Bristlegrass
Hare’s-tail, Dogstooth,
Rabbitfoot, Cockspur,
Feathergrass
Frog Rush, Toad Rush,
Goose-corn, Canary-grass,
Ticklegrass
Flea Sedge, Nit-grass,
Deergrass, Squirreltail,
Adder’s Tongue
Bird’s-foot, Hart’s-tongue,
Horsetail, Stag’s-horn,
Sheep’s Fescue
Cow Quakes, Crab Grass,
Totter Grass, Beetle-grass,
Twitch!


Cock’s-foot grass
Dactylis glomerata
A lintie o a lass rins uphill
tae the pasture field.
On the hip o the brae
the auld grey horse is lyin doon.
A worn-oot yaud
on his watch knowe,
his ee is far awa wi it,
lookin tae the heathery hills.
He’s waitin on the bairn
tae coorie in by his shouther.
She’ll pu a tait o grass for him,
the cock’s-foot he likes fine.
Thegither in companionrie,
the bairn beginnin
tae look ower the nest,
the grey horse beginnin
tae look aboot him
for a last circumspice,
they forgaither on the brae,
wide-warld waukin.
lintie – a sprightly lass
yaud – an old horse
tait – tuft
coorie – cuddle
shouther – shoulder
thegither – together
companionrie – companionship
circumspice – look aboot ye
forgaither – keep company
wide-warld waukin – wide-awake
Live, horse, an ye’ll get gress


Cattieface
Asio flammeus
This year there have been plenty of voles.
Early in June, walking across the open moors,
I see a hawk-owl perched on a single old fencepost.
She takes off and flies directly at me.
Hey, owl of the day,
You short-eared owl. She flies so close to me,
I think a falconer has lost his bird.
Does she want to land on my arm?
She slices past then flies at me again.
This time she locks onto my eyes with hers,
Gives me the death stare in yellow.
She carves the air alongside me, steers around
And comes back to dive at the whippet
In the long grass, who lowers her eyes.
What have we done to her? Somewhere
On this wide moor must be her nest,
Sheltered by surrounding grass and reeds.
She must have two-three chicks hidden.
Dull white round eggs, or pluffed-up fledglings,
I don’t have time to look for them before
She swings round again, two more passes by my face
I won’t forget, she could have my head off.
She lands on a turf dyke to watch our retreat,
Ruffles her feathers, hisses her scorn for us.
Sssssssss
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh
Chef-chef-chef