Treshnish

Treshnish

Alighting
We climb
The whale spine
Brittle in the sun

Up on the ledge
Where the puffins
Squat and strut

We edge ever closer
Behind a lens
As they tease us
Towards the fall

Through nettles
Past dark havens
Where shags spit
And protect their young

We arrive to the cacophony of bird call
Each has a space
And a role

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