A Mid argyll Winter

The Lochgilphead to Oban road.

Tress moulded to the hills.

Stepping stones in threes.

 

Standing alone,

vacant holiday homes

surrounded by falling trees.

 

Horizontal hailstones,

tepid refreshing air,

an empty bus.

 

Late again,

passing The Crinan Canal,

sixteen locks.

 

Nothing on,

Kilmartin church and hotel,

Living stones.

 

Classic cars in a garage,

Morse’s car in grey,

telegraph poles sticking out like matches.

 

Old and worn,

the wooden hand of Ardfearn,

a harbour for the rich.

 

Dolly the sheep,

a single track road,

the bus turning at the fire station.

 

On the road to Oban,

the road to oblivion

in a mid Argyll Winter.

 

This is one of my favourite poems. Crinan Canal was built for Queen Victoria. A good friend of mine drowned in it when imbibing too much amber liquid. Drink is bad, ingest it in moderation. My friend predicted his own demise, how sad. Living stones are ancient pagan stones. Dolly the sheep was cloned and used to live as a pet in a garden in Arfearn. Princess Anne had a yacht moored there. Not in the garden of course! She can be seen visiting the Co-op in a Land Rover in the Summer.

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Geordie Shame ►

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