Seth Crook

Tor Mor, Look East

No great inspiration in this naming.
  Tor Mor, Bruach Mhor: big hill.
Our distant Ben More tempts a gaze.

From here I can spot un-roaded ruins:
  Wintertown, populated by foxgloves,
doorless doorways, ambling hooves.

Downhill, The Loch of the Pot of Iona
offers a shimmering promise of fish.
Inside dry stone walls, adders doze.

I point, name Gorrie’s Leap, imagine.
Some cliffs are a kind of fairy hill:
nobody at home, but with a dizzy music.

Copyright © Seth Crook 2017

Seth Crook rarely leaves Mull. His poems have most recently appeared in Northwords Now, Pushing Out The Boat, Envoi, Antiphon, The Rialto.

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Please note that The Open Mouse is taking a break during August, and will be back in September.

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About sunnydunny

Poet, publisher, gardener
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