In Shetland it’s the simmer dim
a name that shimmers
like the light that hovers
between not yet dark
and not yet light.
Summer edging forward,
vibrant colours
fill our skies
sunsets of fire,
never tire.
Scottish summers,
not about heat.
But about abundance
of stunning views
of soft whispering breezes.
It’s the machair
defining the boundary
of beach and sea.
Birds call a welcome,
gulls riding the currents.
I miss walking
our velvet paths
nothing to mind
but the passing of time
and the indulgence of the season.
I miss walking.
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