once again he goes back with his soul full of hope
simply seeking a warm word or a smile
but the pain and the tears start all over again
he realises his trip is heartbreakingly futile
because springtime in Scotland is bereft of bloom
the flowers have no colour or scent
it is painfully clear he is not welcome here
the narrow cracks now are more widely rent
there’s no music playing on the barren hillsides
the silent songbirds have lost their sweet tunes
the sky is dull with low weeping clouds
obscuring a succession of pale dying moons
the sunshine of course is long disappeared
the rainfall is wind-blown and cold
the chill of his homeland seeps into his bones
but it is not just the weather that makes him feel old
C’est tres triste et tres dur.
Personne ne devrait resentir cela.
The last line is particularly evocative. Beautifully sad…
Wow. That’s dark. A great poem of a tortured soul. Thank you for sharing it with us
Wonderful. I have memories in nothern Scotland.