Home Going

Walking home one evening on a Scottish island.

Home Going

As the summer's evening sun
Seeps beneath the western margin,
Casting amber shades skywards
From the burnished sea,
A corncrake cracks hoarse cries,
Racking silence
Until melting into evening sky.

Occasionally on such evenings,
Heedless of time
And homeward heading,
A solitary car plunges sight into darkness;
And in its wake,
Leaden clouds of stale exhaust.

Tourists, too,
Will often pause
To politely enquire the right road,
Adding in plaintive tones
Condemnation of early rain.
As if the weather was a failing
Of fabled highland hospitality.