Westernmost

  Of these westernmost lands My child Will you long remember Between soft folds of velvet green Paler, darker – oh winds’ fancies The silvery song of streams ? With every further step you take Towards shorter summer Its soflty spoken rhyme will fade Its call will sound thinner Yet in the deeper still waters…

Silver Sands (Bay of Morar)

It was mid-afternoon and low tide under grey skies. He was walking along the estuary, weighing almost nothing on a sand as white as his mind, weaving his steps according to a lonely seagull's flight patterns, hollowing his ear to receive the distant rumble coming fom the frontier line where the slow wandering water would…