—from Edge of the Echo
—Cairngorm Mountains, Scotland
The Cairngorms yawn into dawn,
ribbons of fog weaving
above rounded peaks.
Sun saturates mist, light dissolving
echoes from the past –
the shadow, the blur.
Memory and atoms coalesce –
water lilies pause,
a butterfly punctures the breeze,
you stab my thoughts.
The River Spey wrinkles south
where gorse, heather bristle together.
Oh, the beauty, the sting.
