Playing the piano at my father’s house It stands black and silent, a dusty lar familiaris, perfectly inhabiting this space within the room, still as a forest pool. I raise the lid, note chipped keys, watermarks from long-spilled coffee, how my fingers are thickening at the knuckle. My son ignores these ghosts – he’s intrigued by mechanics, the interplay…

In this episode of Nothing But The Poem podcast, our usual host Samuel Tongue goes in deep on two weel kent poems by Norman MacCaig, one of Scotland’s most loved and influential poets. Norman MacCaig ...