If I were you I’d be sad to be found.
Announced, un-named, on the news.
Carted in a bag to the road.
Patched in places crows have been
to be seen by a weeping wife.
I want the crows to feast.
I want to seep into the earth
the worms to work my flesh.
I want to feed the roots of the blaeberries
to trickle gently down the green braes.
I want my pickled bones to splinter
and my dust to be lifted
by the breath of the cold wind.
I want to stare
still as the watchful hill
at the foreverness of the stars beyond.
Charlie Gracie was brought up in Ballieston, Glasgow and now lives with the family in Thornhill, near Stirling.
His poems have appeared in the following publications: Cutting Teeth, Pushing Out The Boat, New Writing Scotland, Poetry Scotland and The Herald.
His short fiction has been published in a number of literary magazines and he has worked with children in the Scottish Natural Heritage People, Peat and Poetry project.