We walked the cliff of Portnahaven
listening to the grey seals sing
on Orsay and Eilean Mhic Coinnich
across the little harbour.
Were they singing for the love
of being here in this place, like us,
far from griefs — and were they also
singing, as we were, to each other?
You might disagree with half of it, but you’ll enjoy reading all of it
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