The Shetlands
"By law shall the land be built"
A wish geology and Picts ignored
Where salt froth
And fog
Become
An insinuation—mostly rocks.
Inverted white dull houses
And people:
Eyes fixed inward
And out
To sea
Like sorrowful gulls
Timing tides.
Afraid of mainland strangers
And color
They mangle hellos
And stress goodbyes.
They say
They’re Viking folk.
Make clacking noises
Like crabs.
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