Poem of the week: Three Sisters
It’s so wet here the sheep
are ringing out their fleeces
We’re spared by autumn colours
and the mist that hangs over Loch Lomond
And we sing along these bonnie bonnie banks
‘til fuel levels drop and tempers rise.
We take the crawling lane to Glencoe
Three Sisters heads in the clouds
covered in bracken russet juniper evergreen
draped and tucked smooth as lambskin.
Why wouldn’t they look down on us
eating our bagels and cheese
bickering with hair-whipped faces
mocking us just passing through
haughty from their vantage point!
Your majesties, I cannot see your gazes
Gearr Aonach, Beinn Fhada, Aonach Dubh
but your laughter lingers.