Poem on Sunday: Uncle David by Sarah Persson

Sarah Persson

Today’s poem is inspired by an article written by a historian who writes about the Vale of Glamorgan, Graham Loveluck-Edwards.

In it Graham writes that during the 18th century, superstitious sailors and their families could pay for the wind to blow in the desired direction. This would help protect them sailors from storms and also increase their fishing haul.

One of the men who offered this service was called ‘Ewythr Dewi’ or ‘Uncle David’. He lived in Barry Island.

Many of us have had chips stolen by seagulls there, and it is an interesting fact that seagulls fly inland before a storm comes. They do this to avoid the bad weather as they can sense the changing air pressure.

Ewythr Dewi takes a penny from the sailors’ wives to change the wind,

but Ewythr Dewi has turned his hat too late,
the storm is on its way.

The seagulls
are flying inland.

Autumn wind runs through
the trees outside fishermen’s windows,
leaves glitter.

Wives on the shoreline
their hair wind-whisked
paid their penny
to bring their boys home.

Their weeping will be apple leaves
rubbed together into rain.

Autumn dragons
are surging fire into trees,
burnt orange on branches
not bright enough
to guide the boats back.

Wooden bows of fishing boats
lawless,
crash through the waves off Barry.

Leaves, husbands, sons,
all the pennies gone,
spill
spin
swell in the storm’s grasp… and the gulls are silent.