Luing by Alan Murray
She let me go, the tide
Opened her grip for an instant,
And I slipped through the Sound, hard to port.
The warm June rain kissed my neck
A thousand times,
From the clear blue sky above.
My escort, a pod of dolphins
Clicked their goodbyes
Onward to Mull and beyond.
And through summers fine veil of shimmering haze,
Past the Scabious and Marsh Fritillary,
A cottage by Cullipool shining with glacier reflection.
The island pulled me here,
And in the quiet evening
I am sure she whispered my name.
By the ruins of an old croft I reflected on the day
I was blown off course
To a home I never knew.