There's a ripple on the shore of Kildonnan
and my mind answers at speed, soars
through doorways and on, at gathering pace,
clipping crystals of ice in the wind, it
races low over the grass of the dunes, then
veers between walkers that stoop on the beach
whistling close to the trees and the stones
and the fish in the tide, straining its line.

A spin, a dip and it dives into dark,
cruel currents that clutch, kicking down, going deep
to linger alone, with ideas that steep
and commune with the brain-frozen
shoals. It observes their thinking minds,
their scales twinkling: stars in the ocean.