MacCaig: ‘Praise of a thornbush’

 Here’s Norman MacCaig again. This time, the poet is examining a scrawny rose bush.

            The ideal shape of a circle

            means nothing to you: you’re all

            armpits and elbows …

                        You are

            An encyclopedia of angles. …

            When the salt gales drag through you

            You whip them with flowers.

It’s a living thing — hardly ideal but perfectly adapted to a harsh environment. In this quick sketch, the images are sharp as thorns.

If you share my taste for MacCaig, look for “No nominalist,” “Go-between,” “Sheep dipping, Achemeloich,” “Frogs” and “Sleet.” That’s just the beginning.

• Source: Norman MacCaig, The Poems of Norman MacCaig; Edinburgh: Polygon, 2005.