Lost Sowls

by James Sinclair

I can sniff dee oot
da smell o da eart
da stink o fust an rot

We aedged closs in ta da floe
an fur sic a sicht as hit med.
Hit lookit laek dey’d joost set dem doon
fae dir moarnin’s wark, teen a braether.

Dey wir twa lifeboats kummeled heidicraa,
aers riggit in craa’s taes,
wuppit roond wi canvas sails,
kists an barrels an packin cases.

Aathin laid oot dere, apairt
Fae da ship hersel. An whin you lookit
dat bit closer ,you could see dir blackened sken
da fankled shaeps o dir airms an leegs

laek da graet puppet maister
hed cut da strings, hed gotten fed up
wi da  game he’d been playin
an waandered aff i da ice, laevin his toys ahint.