shadow

Highland song

To R. L. S. A whaup's cry over moor and loch, Or an oystercatcher's vibrant call

From some salty estuary

Is your poet's voice to a Scots ear.

Your words are thistle blizzards

Showering the heart,

Foxglove and meadowsweet

Charming the eye,

Music of peaty burn

Quietening the mind.

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