Poetry Map of Scotland, poem no. 256: Loch Morlich

Loch Morlich

Dawn spreads warm fingers over granite

long since ground down, pink in morning light.

By the time we arrive the gilded peaks

of Shepherd’s hill are mirrored in the loch.

You and Tara dig, bent double, intently,

like Klondike miners searching for gold

or some small treasure, coloured glass, a feather

to be taken home and shown off proudly.

Chubby sand- covered knees are washed

by lapping waters, we drowse in the midday heat.

Sunlight working off sand, glinting off spade,

while soft fleet clouds pass stately overhead.

Jill Thomson

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