## Gawain.

A cliff, a wave, a name,
the body lost,
the insubstantial colorings remain.

We grant ourselves our dreams.

The land-locked tales all told.

## Shetlands.

I go grieving,
pricked by duty,
from the island of white unicorns
and violet beauty.

Let me not remember or Let me forget
the color of the land,
the climbing, upwards staring sheep
in Westerstrand.

Till I return this way
let memory be
the empty crab shell
on the sepia sand.

There is no answer till the need has gone.