Enough light now
to show the shapes of waves,
the far run of big hills.
We can be caught
by individual traits
in particular clouds
as all these reds
are streaked by
electrical activity.
You are the goddess
of cumulonimbus
and I could be fascinated again
as the shadow of wit is across your eyes
and I know there’s something like calm in your centre
but I’m also seeing the scud of dark
and know to get all vulnerable sail
to the deck fast and
brace before the sent ice hurts
and then I’ll rub my unprotected ears and nose and eyes
and blink at yet another change of sky
and know that continuation would take
the bravery of the solo sailor in
an area of geos and williewaws
where the notes of pilotage
are sketchy.
But I’m on the ferry
and there’s snow on an Teallach
and brightness on the Coigeach stone.
It could be time
for an egg-roll.