St Blane

by Robin Munro

Ertha had a son.
They blamed a spirit from a well
but blame was not her feeling
as the life force grew.

She named him Blane.
We hear tell of them cast adrift,
a coracle, a well turned boat
a rounded myth.

Seven years of course
then 'home' to the care of Catan.
Catan and his nephew Blane,
the South end named for them.

Bute or beyond, we are all
adrift in a frail craft
directed by wind
informed by the spirit of a spring.