Knarled legs with pronounced sinews.
Remind me of the ancient hawthorn
at the Roman fort.
Swollen knees akin to burls bend as we sit companionably next to one another.
We watch the boys in their kayaks.
Fishing for pollock far out in the bay.
The third one on the look out is the great seal.
Wondering who mucks about with his dinner.
The old man was up from Yorkshire
I believe
Always loved hiking but he has to use the poles now.
‘My knees, you know? I need to take them now.’
I show him my Nordic Walking poles. ‘Family history.’ I add.
We both nodd in understanding and watch the seal pop up.
Curriously trailing the boys in their kayaks.
We laugh.
Someone is worried about their dinner.
The summer sun warms our skin.
Marram grass almost silver in the bright light.
Diamond sparkles on ripples in the sea.
He tells me about his family. The call of sea birds.
Old man on a dune, Durness
Published
Poetry by Nathalie 