A Pancake Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Today, I'm flat as a pancake
I'm a stopped clock
My pendulum's stationery
My energy's extinct
I'm a Dodo in tomorrowland

If I was a cromack, I'd be straight
If I was icicle, I'd be bent
If I was a Maypole, I'd harbour the death watch beetle

Some years were nothing but filling the bins with trash
Some years hadn't a single kingfisher flight
Living like a hermit, I keep my store of Scots words in my head
No social tsunami has washed those words away
Nobody's picked the lock of my cultural hoard
In years to come, a metal detector may uncover it

I pick the scabs of hurts to pass the time
Ghosts of cuts on my arms gleam mother of pearL
I paint a fresco over today's stagnation