Friday, 3 July 2015

Climbing Suilven


I nod and nod to my own shadow and thrust
A mountain down and down.
Between my feet a loch shines in the brown,
It's silver paper crinkled and edged with rust.
My lungs say No;
But down and down this treadmill hill must go

Parishes dwinde. But my parish is
This stone, that tuft, this stone
And the cramped quarters of my flesh and bone.
I claw that tall horizon down to this;
And suddenly
My shadow jumps huge miles away from me.

Norman MacCaig, March 1954


Moon rising over Canisp & Suilven, April 2007, at the end of a gloriously long day, walking from Lochinver to Elphin with Jim and Roxy (my loving dog), having returned back to our starting point.

2 comments:

  1. "my parish is/This stone"... Shades of that other poem of his, "My only country / is six feet high / and whether I love it or not / I'll die / for its independence"

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