Colin, I like the poem, the start and end right, but think this journey
could go much quicker to get to the heart sooner
by ferry from Mallaig,
on foot over the whale
hump of Canna,
past hazels prevailing
in one direction
like the fingers of stiff hands,
a firm southerly easing us up
and over each basalt block,
bog cotton bent all the way,
wiry grasses streaming
to where rock, bog and grass
all dropped from view
Smiles.
Gary
WATCH THIS SPACE FOR AN ANNOUNCEMENT FOR MINDFIRE RENEWED SOON. Poets for
Peace.... ˇPoemas sí, balas no!
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