Dunnet Head (Fair Isle*)
In the tactile quiet, the whine
of the nervous system drowns
the black sea, north of Dunnet
Head. A caged sound wash
on this fluid canvas –
where aspic air dulls
all but the wings
of the shearwater
beating at the numbed
goustie – a feathered
thrum and unexpected
downdraft teases
a supranormal absence
of inspiration and sound
and heartbeat. Caithness
pauses… then breathes again.
*Dunnet Head sits in the Fair Isle Shipping Forecast Area and this poem is part of my Shipping Forecast project.
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