Three times in the lifetime of my walk buzzards circled high among the rain. Twice in the gloom of the Strath my phone rang and I killed it. Once, as I clambered through scree I caught bad music on the wind. And many times my step was sore thinking of you beneath the sun’s turn, beneath the heat that grows in every season, under the yoke of a black smog. Yourself running from one land to another land and all lands wrinkling as if with age. Myself gazing at empty skies beneath the bitter rain under the turn of the sun.
Ian McDonough
Ian McDonough was born and brought up in Brora on the East Coast of Sutherland. His latest collection is ‘A Witch Among The Gooseberries’ published by Mariscat in 2014. His poems have recently appeared in Poetry Review, Causeway, Poetry Scotland and Northwords. When not writing he works as a mediator and conflict trainer.