Loch Ness
Alltsaigh - The Scotch Highlands
I made a pact with you near water's edge:
Before the campers came,
I would remove The drawings on the hostel's kitchen walls
In which you are a few sad and patient tires
Half in some blued-out lake with dragon face,
So patently fading to public white.
You said you would never come back up
To startle us again or find disgrace…
So you said going black under blue;
I knew you would be back.
Sailing these spindrift waters
Diving the bone-deep depths and taunting us
Across the waves with your rippling spines,
And flair for bumbling melodrama.
Therefore, I have kept my watch
And evenings, a blue sword in darkness,
I look downward and slip off into the night
--Published Sketchbook
Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015
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