Poetry Map of Scotland poem no. 12: Tanera Mor in the Summer Isles

Touch Stone

He walks slowly
on a well-worn path
listening for the blackbird
and brushing past bracken
feels the warmth
of familiar stone
finds the sweet heat
of brambles hiding by the wall.
He picks clover and chews on summer,
kneels to search for sorrel
explodes its sweet acid
in his mouth.
Hears the music of
honey collectors,
gathers a bitter taste of mint.

 

Lesley May Miller

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