Poem of the month - November and December 2005

Moral Problem Because it was November Because you were already Staggering on the edge of eternity, I killed you wasp. Not because I was afraid of you; Not because I am in principle Against small, useless things that sting. I acted - I thought I acted - From motives of humanity. November is too cold for wasps. You were so nearly dead. In all the rain and fog, why would you want to live? These were the reasons I ascribed to myself. Only now, when it's too late, I wonder... By Meta Maltman

About the poet Meta Maltman says 'I was born in Lancashire, but my parents, both Scots, moved to Galloway during the war. We had no previous connection with the area, but I grew up seeing myself as a Gallovidian, even though most of our other relatives lived in Glasgow. Influenced by my father I was an early convert to amateur drama and even tried my hand at writing plays as well as acting in them. Aged sixteen I won a local competition with a one-act play that smacked vaguely (very vaguely) of Noel Coward. No more was needed to convince me that my future was in the professional theatre. At least I had enough talent to get myself into the R.S.A.M.D. in Glasgow, based at the Atheneum in those days. I took the teaching course so that I would have 'something to fall back on' if my acting career failed to hit the heights, but the acting and the teaching courses were almost identical at that time, and of course we were all going to become Big Names with no need to fall back on anything but our glittering talent. Part of the course involved spending two afternoons a week at Glasgow University, where some of the lectures were delivered by a youthful Edwin Morgan. I left the Atheneum with a BBC radio acting contract and high hopes. I had already worked for Kathleen Garscadden, doing a Children's Hour serial alongside actors like Ian Cuthbertson, Effie Morrison and Leonard McGuire. I reckoned I could fit in my six months' teacher training at Jordanhill and pick up where I had left off. That was a mistake. I joined the BBC just as things were winding down for the summer. My contract ended with no work in the offing and no money in the bank. I fell back on teaching. I hated it. Desperate to escape from the chalk face, I applied for any job that came along, joined B.E.A. (as it then was) and spent the next twenty years in the reservations and sales side of civil aviation. I still lived in Glasgow, uncomfortable with city life, hankering for Galloway but with no real hope of finding work there. The playwriting had stopped, but other kinds of writing went on. Then, out of the blue, I saw Dumfries and Galloway Tourist Board advertising a vacancy. I applied, got the job, and was back where I felt I belonged. It's a move I've never regretted: a return to small rural communities, amateur drama and writing. I've had a few poems published, but would hesitate to describe myself as 'a poet' never mind a 'poet of the month'. Oddly, since I regard myself as a fairly cheerful person, I noticed recently that most of my poems, even my earlier ones, seem to deal with some aspect of death or at least with the interface between life and death.'

The inspiration behind the poem Meta says 'Moral Problem is more or less self explanatory. Years ago I killed a moribund wasp that I found on my aunt's hearthrug and then doubted my own judgement. Usually I fiddle about with anything I write, but this poem is still almost exactly as it was first written.'

If you have enjoyed this poem, you can borrow a range of poetry from the Scottish Poetry Library, who also lend by post. Telephone 0131 557 2876 or email reception@spl.org.uk. For an online catalogue, poetry events listings and more featured poems, please visit the Scottish Poetry Library website.