Staffa

56°25.937’ N, 6°20.296’ W, 24.05.2019

Leaden skies hang
Tear-laden
As we leave our anchorage
At Eilean Reilean.
Slate seas
Sweep us out to
Staffa.
But our question is:
How to assuage
The grief
Of a remote paradise
Despoiled?
Today we are lucky –
The sea
Answers our dour musings
With a pod
Of massive, muscled
Dolphins
Sleek and scarred
Grey-green,
White bellies
Shimmering luminescently
As they corkscrew under
The bow of the boat.
They stay with us
For ten minutes, maybe twelve
Till they veer off
To find another vessel
To play with.
Spirits lifted
We tack across
To the weird geologist’s
Geometrical dream
Of Staffa,
The other end
Of the Giant’s Causeway,
Where dark Fingal’s Cave
Volcanic, vulvic,
Rubs along with
Ribbed cliffs,
Hexagonal pyramids
Barnacled stepping stones
To mark the entrance
To another world.