Leith Policeman, Tosh and Tin
While we waited, I asked
what had brought him
(accent Scottish, Australian
grandson, name of Keir)
to this country?
(Keir, I knew, was named for
Hardy, Westminsterıs
first socialist, cloth cap
defiant among the top hats.)
Och, I left Aberdeen to serve
in the Edinburgh Police,
down towards the docks at Leith.
Donıt know if you know it?ı
(Leith Walk, yes, its theatre,
left-wing for a time
The Gateway, used books,
the risky feel of the streets,
soiled white swans
in the flotsam at the docks.
Before supermarkets took over,
Scots belonged to Co-ops like
St Cuthbertıs, whose horse-drawn
milk carts woke me to their music,
shod hooves on setts and cobbles.
That was in the sixties.)
This was in the sixties
utter boredom, walking the beat.
Lasted two years, then left.
They modernised straight after.
Back to Aberdeen,
worked in the fishing,
got to be auctioneer.
There were bad things to
turn a blind eye to hard.
One day I was too outspoken.
Luckily Adelaide wanted me,
last of the ten-pound migrants.
Great little fishery,
it was a co-op AFC
till the egos took over.ı
(So much for socialism.
Where are the Scottish co-ops?
Swept away.
Sorry, Keir Hardy.)
Melbourne, then at one stage
we had four planes in the air
telling us where to send our fleet
chasing the tuna shoals.
We flooded the market,
twenty-nine cents a tin.
And fished out the tuna.
But we Scots multiplied.
Itıs good now watching
grandsons, granddaughters.
Keir? I call him Tosh, all the boys.
All the girls I call Tin
donıt ask me why.ı
I missed my moment
to say soberly the old tongue-test:
the Leith Police dismisseth us.
Tosh and Tin are bound to know it,
and may yet hear about
old Scottish hopes, dismissed.
30 May 2007
Max Richards
Doncaster, Victoria
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