44880: Poem about Planasker School

by Dolina Maclennan

Planasker school was closed this year
Planasker where my father married my mother,
Planasker where I felt my first smell of coal,
And where the cocoa was strong on winter days
Planasker where I learnt to high jump
Planasker where I learned that there were things to be learned.
Coming home by Creagan Alick
With Aonghas Thormoid shouting that he would
‘scythe our legs for treading the uncut grass’
Coming home, stopping at Ishbel Fhionnlaigh’s
To hear the drips of rain coming throught the roof
And making music in the assorted receptacles.
Stopping at Chirsty a’Cheannain’s for
A potato out of the prais and a word of comfort.
Coming home to my father
Mending endless herring nets.
Running to Planasker on a spring morning
Running to Planasker after a summer’s dinner time
Leaping the claisean, bursting with living timelessness.
Leaving Planasker for Education
Leaving Planasker full of anticipation
And coming back –
To Planasker.
To dirty windows, to grassy playgrounds,
To mossy steps – to a closed porch.
Planasker school was closed this year.

(1973)