inverness

poem for a scottish accent


weep ye creatures of the moon
upon the lives we lead
the lovin' is all done
winter takes the seed
and as the fates command
ye walk but do not breathe

how can I ask for tears
from what has never known
the deep and dark despairs
the mordant love of woman
ye shun the shawl of human sights
and live but when the moon is bright

a sombre stillness sheathes the air
grasses waver silver strewn
and i a traveller from afar
care not for the friends i knew
oh weep for me ye creatures
i cannae weep for you