The road-signs leading to Lochaline
are the strangest drivers have ever seen.
A stag held aloft by antlers, flying.
Narrowing of lines, like a skein
of geese. And, of course, the warning signs
that show men tumbling as they climbed
out of Gleann Dubh or Glais Bheinn,
half-blinded
by the tears these settlers shed
for the land they’d left behind.