I’m here now, you can gocarried on along the water by thelone fishing boat.A penny for the journey, nonefor my thoughts.You know them all already, …
Across to Thriepmuir
A poem by Lizzie Milne
Looking on the Cuillin, Skye.
Clouds billow around the mountain topsFine, gossamer as smokeAs if the heights they reach are notRock formations or fragments of giant Earth moulding substance,But a pot, …