A red tinged land
on the mossy side
of a grey limestone arch,
a place of peaks and green hills
and silver blue reflection in still flat lakes.
I have this vision of it, the rough ruggedness,
the beauty of a burnt brown, barren landscape,
of fields hard bought from bed rock
that sits six inches below
the surface of bitter acidic soil.
I have a picture,
as firm and bright as a memory
of silver birch, burnished ash and scrub thorn
blown sideways and stunted to sculpture by the westerly wind.
Grey rock riven deep by rain and sea, limestone pavement,
The shape coalescing in home sick eyes.
to the beauty of a woman’s face, black hair and green eyes,
Kathleen; a remembrance of land that I once called home.