An Tubaist

’S e meadhan an earraich a th’ ann agus craobhan
Coille Chluanaidh fo sgàil, an grioman
air an làrag ’s a’ ghiuthas às an amharc on rathad,
ged a tha làn fhios agad gum bi e an sin,
a’ sgaoileadh a-mach gu slaodach air na stuic,
na geugan. Tha Loch Faschoille mar a bha e riamh,
air neo, co-dhiù, o chaidh damaichean a chur
air an Teimhil ’s a’ Gharadh. Tha am breac ann,
tuigidh mi, agus a’ ghead; san Ògmhios bidh a’ bhànag
a’ tilleadh agus am bradan, a’ sreap an àraidh
len toil dall, ann an achlais a chèile
nan ceudan.

Tha seo uile a’ ciallachadh cumhachd,
an t-uisge sa chùrsa chunbhalach rèidh
a’ brùthadh turbainean, a’ dràibheadh bheartan,
sruth a’ ruith tro ar stuth bunaiteach,
na h-ataman fhèin caochlaideach, a’ cur car, a-rithist
’s a-rithist, ann an caochan de dhominothan
agus chàrnan.

Tha loidhne chàraichean a’ sìneadh mìle,
a dhà, a-nis mu chuairt nan cnoc: solais casgan-làimhe,
toitean, dòrsan fosgailte. Cuiridh sinn dheth ar rèidiothan,
gus nach cluinn sinn na tha fios againn a tha ann.
Nì ar corragan rat-a-tat air ar cuibhlichean-stiùiridh.

The Crash

It is mid-spring, and the trees in Clunie Wood
are in shadow, the lichen on the pine and larch
not visible from the road, though you know
it will be there, creeping slowly along the trunks
and the branches. Loch Faskally is as it always is,
or, at least, has been since the Tummel and Garry
were dammed. There are trout, I believe, and pike.
In June the grilse will arrive and the salmon,
climbing their ladder in blind will, jostling
in their hundreds.

This all means power,
the water in its steady unhurried course
pushing the turbines, driving mechanisms,
a current carried through our basic matter,
the very atoms unsettled, tipping over, again
and again, in swirls of domino effects
and backlogs.

The line of cars stretches out,
one, two miles now round the bend: handbrake lights,
open doors, cigarettes. We turn the radios off,
so we do not hear what we know is there.
Our fingers rat-a-tat on the steering wheels.

Peter Mackay is a poet, academic and broadcast journalist. He has a pamphlet with Clutag Press, From Another Island (2010), and has written extensively on contemporary poetry. He lives in Edinburgh.