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The Gaithering by Hannah Lavery

To mark the Year of Stories, we commissioned Edinburgh’s Makar Hannah Lavery to write a poem for the occasion, which featured in our Spring catalogue. You can read it below.

The Gaithering

Wait, while I tell ye…

aw whits bin collecting
swirling wi the words
wi’ve saved up like stamps.

Here, I’ve things to tell ye
stories that’ve bin
chapping on my door.

fae aw of us

that’ve bin
gaithering here.

Coming doon
wi the burns, swimming
in the sea, the lochs, the local pool
milling in the quiet corners, in the loud, in the open air
aw wild,like.

wi haunds held
in closes, in forests

up the high street, by shore
by oor screens – alone.

Wait, will ye?

Let me tell ye
my stories

preserve them wi ye
like jam, like chutney, like aiples

like days so sweet wi
anely bring them oot
in company – amongst friends.

Stories so treasured, we store them
like china dugs in glass cabinets

haundling them wi care, afore passing them on.

This poem was commissioned by Publishing Scotland to mark the Year of Stories.