A daisy in the
broken breakwater slabs.
Morar edges west
against east running waves,
the illusion
but a dilemma let slip.

Mary on the pier,
black skirt and white shirt.
The Mallaig boat
then train and Glasgow,
each year carefully packed into
a new rucksack.

Her little sister will soon
stop crying
(ice cream and the internet),
she’s learning the world comes closer
day by day,
like herons across the milk-water sea.

© Tom McCulloch