Queen of the Haugh
Queen of the Haugh
Suspended in a clearing
That afternoon,
Was it evening?
That summer when the heat was all
Across Kincardine town,
The Firth of Forth
Still down to the railroad bridge,
Arthur’s seat;
And in the shadows that we count
Along the valley ridge
A clarity that cuts and keeps.
There’s still that evening eight years on:
Your voice was time itself.
We lay
Stations
On the Bel rock shelf
And passed the longest day,
I saw the Pict in you and me,
The governance of love’s slow, leeward sense
From the valley ridge to the silvered sea.
Now winter is the conscience lies between us
Nothing but the past upon us
All the clocks turned back.
