strange shoppers

There's a full moon in a pale sky. 6 pm is 6 in the morning with streets full of birdsong. Occasional rush-hour cars pass unhurriedly. Driving somewhere? Or just driving. A pavement door slides open for business. One ten-scarce-items-or-less laden woman shuffles out, counting her children. I am permitted to fill a young man's footsteps … Continue reading strange shoppers

one last poem

Words fall like autumn leaves. A low dying storm, pressured harbinger of winter, irrevocably sucks them from my lips. Golden on my tongue, they tumble in many evanescent colours. Flutters of purple prose scarcely tinge the air as they drop. Zestful orange phrases, deprived of sunlight, wilt untouched. Yellowed poems drift with the breeze like … Continue reading one last poem

dawn at Cantick Head Lighthouse

Moments flow faster than I can write them down. While the night-long conversations of lighthouses safely hush into a velvet-grey dawn, over South Ronaldsay low clouds gather and brim with fire. They seem to tell of an unearthly conflagration out in the North Sea, beyond the horizon, somewhere near Valhalla. And the clouds fleetingly present a … Continue reading dawn at Cantick Head Lighthouse