West Highland Railway
A sonnet. "Clack and hum"
Fort William to Mallaig. Clack and hum.
Quick, broken light stippling into the car
And everything in transit. To the numb
Murmur of train noise, hills disclose their far
Outlines like Gaelic script from the old Makers,
Cold, sturdy and inscrutable.
Slowly, tourist maps and newspapers
Fall prostrate to the mythic spectacle
Of tide-thrashed cliffs and vaulted bridges.
My spirit dips and rises like a lark
Over those bald, unforgiving ridges,
Inspiration dwindling to a spark
As quick as dawnlight in the heather-rust,
No more or less than our brief animus.