Highlands

Mountain hare,

deer, golden
eagles – a nesting pair,
right on the road side.

Tiny flowers,
scattered jewel-like in the grass,
wink yellow, mauve,
and violet eyes.

Gorse, in bloom;
fern, scrub heather;
a slow worm
writhes across our path.

The sea, electric blue
and eau de nil,
turned mercury
by late-afternoon.

And all day long
the skylarks rise up,
up, high above the meadow,
and sing their song.