Hebridean Seaweed Soup ~ A poem by Bruach Mhor

Hebridean Seaweed Soup

Sea Whistle? A broth of Dead Man’s Rope?
A fusion of Fucus flavours:
Bladderwrack, Spiral Wrack, Channelled Wrack?

Or perhaps a mash of Devil’s Apron/
bulbous prongs of Velvet Horn?
Something named only in Gaelic, with a little garlic?
Each summer evening, after a long Atlantic swim
(no skins), I cook and try the day’s find,
ranging ever further out onto rarely visited skerries of taste.

Bruach Mhor

An earlier version has been previously published by Ekphrastic Review.

Bruach Mhor lives by a loch, is transitioning into a seal, tries to walk mindfully. His poems have most recently appeared in Ink, Sweat and Tears, The Lake, Re-Side, Morphrog, The Broken Spine Artists Collective, Plumwood Mountain, Poetry Village, Emerald (Monstrous Regiment). He tweets as @dolphins_two

Photo credit @wolfgang_hasslemann at http://www.unsplash.com

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