deserted croft house
I look inside the old walls
these were my people

the long stare out
to the wide dark line where the sea
drinks down the sky

a cross, quickly scratched
does not disturb this relic
poised, grey and lichened

pair of guillemots
whir away from the ferry
their fishing disturbed

grey contours define
cloud, rock, ocean, horizon,
shadows conspiring

broad expanse of light
only Eabhal interrupts
breathe because I’m home

the water tower
entering Balivanich
a coffee filter