twilight on the machair

The harsh rasp of an elusive corncrake
startles the watching hare. He pauses, still
for a long moment; then bounds away, swift
over the sweet springy turf, scattered with
a galaxy of starry blooms, glowing
as the sun sinks behind the outer isles.
But light remains; the sky pale, misted by
spray from endless waves crashing on the shore.

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Filed under favourite places, poetry

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