Well, friend, we’re here again —
sauntering the last half-mile to the land’s frayed end
to ﬁnd what’s laid on for us, strewn across the turf —
gull feathers, bleached shells,
a whole bull seal, bone-dry,
knackered from the rut
(we knock on his leathern head, but no one’s home).
Change, change — that’s what the terns scream
down at their seaward rocks;
ﬂeet clouds and salt kiss —
everything else is provisional,
us and all our works.
I guess that’s why we like it here:
listen — a brief lull,
a rock pipit’s seed-small notes.
Kathleen Jamie (Scotland, 1962-) from The Bonniest Company (2015)