I'll never forget being there, and the great black birds croaking among the ruins and the headstones. Here is a poem I wrote about our visit.
Established in 1128
Ravens at Kelso Abbey
by Gayle Weatherson
I heard them croak in Kelso’s ancient kirkyard,
Among the flinty ruins of the abbey:
Rasping cries from tree to tree, echoing stone to stone
Like knives cutting through the silent morning.
The swoop and glide of dark feathers;
A glimpse of wing and flash of tail,
Sharp against the pale grey pearl of sky;
The curving whisper of air displacement
As one lit upon a bough of twisted pine.
black as night, beneath the tree,
An obsidian blade shining sable on the green green grass,
Although there was no sun.