The forest

An avenue of trees
reaching high into the skies
marching on for many a step
immutable it seems

Their crowns are rustled
by the wind
Their bows sway and creak
As if talking amongst themselves

A uniform carpet underfoot
of rustled brown leaves
A memory
of sunny summer days

I cannot see
beyond their eaves
the wind is that of land
blowing ever further away

Here the sea is to my west
well beyond my line of sight
even the belvedere on top of hill
only shows rivers from afar

Grimersta

The water twinkled
as the sun beamed down
the river flowed fast
as the walked south

The bothy stood
beyond the stones
a few steps in water
and we'd be there

We passed on south
as the blue sky
reflected in
a thousand shifting mirrors

A whirlwind blew
a circle in
the swirling waters
thence hissing in the grass

Hand in hand we headed
along the fields of heather
towards the pyramid
of Roineabhal

At Eilean Mhor I called
but you did not respond
the sun growing hazy
beyond the nearby hills

I could not wait
to cross the deep waters
you had gone
disappeared - were you ever there?

The gloomy waters
rapidly flowed
as I gained the far side
below frowning Roineabhal

As I climbed the hill
nothing stirred
on the shores of Eilean Mhor
Did I abandon you?

Did you abandon me
For the youth of Coire Geurad
to chase the hares
far south on the slopes of Rapaire?