Islay Night

by Gregory Bailey

It's been a clear day
and the silent sound's been lit
by the frosty blue of a Northern sky
But now the light is dimming
and the harbour lamps are lit,
And the silence shattered by the
iron shape moored gently by the shore
as it clangs and hums;

And by human shouts and calls;
and the rumbling revving of diesel;
And now the twilight dims
and the ramps are up and Islay falls away.
Egg and Chips and Arran sweaters
for the old lags downstairs
who've seen it all before;

But for me the biting breeze on deck
and the leaning on the bracing rail
And Islay slipping past; now dark and still,
but with a pearlescent sky behind
And the intermittent green-red pulse
of warning lights the only manmade signs