The pale autumn sun
plays over the
gable ends
where man has left
nature encroaches
walls crumble
Roofs once stood proud
now fallen in
uncovering the homestead
The storm approaches
as the ruins cower
from its boundless wrath
The island stands empty
None are there now
where a community once thrived
Whether it be Hiort or Scarp,
Pabbay, Boreray or North Rona
Only memories remain
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