Poetry Map of Scotland: poem no. 402

Doune

Dusk falls sudden over Doune
A garden shed, house-high antennae,
catching the fly-by of short-wave.
Cocoa and call signs; the world is talking,
and this glow of a shed responding.
Crammed village, the draggle of a castle
so ruined its stones were not worth looting.
The wealth stilled, pooling here:
a gunshop, its finest worked metals,
stocks sanded to the scalloped shoulder.  

Michael Murray

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