Comin' Up The Auld Mill?

Both sad and inspired one morning after a chance drunken encounter with an old schoolmate I wrote this.

We first went up the auld mill as bairns.

Well…. not bairns but boys rather than men,

as Burns was when he trod down by Cluden side. 

We were inexorable and intrepid

yet as obedient as the throbbing, swelling,

tribal capillary of Cluden Water.

 

What was it that divined us there? What is it's turgid influence on the Nith?

 

Garnered by centuries of faithfulness

we blindly showboated off the rope swing

before the shock of the rapids tickled and froze

us like trout

snuffing out our faux valour as naturally

as the sultry summer slew drove its illicit cargo of feral fauna.

 

The whispered violence, the flora

and fermented fervour ferried by the wind 

ower bank, nook and crag

where future old scores were forged with

newfound adversaries faintly recognised from

Beavers, Cubs, inside the enclosure at Palmy.

 

The Heathers and Hazels blossomed

yet unheeded as both naive and vainglorious

real blows awaited us downstream,

right throughout our short precious time,

the kind of slaps, cracks and thwocks from The Dandy

that we had just…. outgrown.

 

Some washed out, some floundered,

some spewed out away beyond

even estuary, out to sea.

It was all there in these frolics

up Cluden Water

when we were already all

the men that we would all ever be....

 

 

Davey Payne ©  2020

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

What a clever use of alliteration to further theme here.
My best friend in grade school and I used to do things like this...
not with the same stature I would presume...
but similar...something special about those friendships that we will never forget.
j.

[Davey Payne]

Thanks for all that you say J. Yes, we never forget these friendships and these experiences become more vivid to me the older I get somehow

[Cherrie Palmer]

Your writing carries a rhythm of natural speech, retelling a cherished memory.
It seems the older we get the more we visit those memories.
Excellent writing.

[Davey Payne]

Exactly, that! they seem to become more vivid as well. Thanks for reading and for your kind words. Thanks so much

[alanwgraham]

Very guid Davey. I'm not sure how much of these drunken rambles to believe but I'll gie you the benefit of the doubt.
A' the best,
Alan

[Davey Payne]

Thanks for reaching out, Alan. I appreciate your praise and magnanimity. Cheers, mun.

[Eilis]

Hi, Davey. Gram directed me to your poetry. I do love this poem. It has all the things that draw me into a poem and make me want to return to read and better understand the encapsulated poetic universe. Like a story you keep returning to and finding something new every time.

There’s a great sense of gaining maturity in recognizing the forward movement of time—its inevitability—and our powerlessness over the forces that govern everything. I love the water as a symbol of that. How it grabs some and pulls them while others find strength in that tumult. Also enjoyed your allusion to Burns and your use of dialect. Gram has schooled me (the American, haha) on the language and culture of his home, and I have grown fond of them.

What I enjoy most about your poem, though, is this sense of it being an individual story, but also being able to function allegorically. That lovely place where we meet the world and find there are things we know that others also understand. The climb of being human. This is excellent poetry. Welcome to the cafe.

[Davey Payne]

Hi Eilis and thanks very much for your kind words and such an eloquent evaluation. Poetry is a new found medium for me. Hopefully I have the capacity for much much more. Your review has given me a clear perspective on my inspirations and it is truly mind-blowing to hear that my subjective experience has translated and resonated allegorically across the pond to the USA. Thanks for such a warm welcome to the cafe. I will look forward to discovering your writing. Pleased to meet you