Fifteen Years

We’re the last…
Give it another fifteen years…
There’ll be nothing left…

Everything changes
Or nothing.

Day by day
Our cells change,
Our molecules and skin,
While a face in the mirror stares back,
Not completely unknown.

By Whose Righteousness

An outburst: lightning
And its echoing thunder.

Reaction without restraint;
All the pain of retaliation.

Harrassed, provoked,
Driven into a baited trap.

Livid

A weal
A red stripe
Like a second mouth

Quiet it said
No more speaking out of turn.
No more.

Blàr na Fala

Disturbed ground

The earth in turmoil

And the blood in it

Season after season

Seeps deeper into darkness.

Out of barren fields

The remains of armies

Rise like ghosts or mist,

A fitting shroud for this 

No man’s land.

…abandoned now…
…men no longer…

Dunadd

In the dead eye of winter
When you sought a place of vantage,
Shelter and strength you built into stones.
On a fastness of rock
Over marsh and brack you held dominion,
Watched without rest from a nest of slabs,
Let none assail the fortress of your night.