It’s gey sair wark tae

scrieve an abstrak sang,

fur sic a gait rins

thro the lan wi an

effin narrative

that’s ay oan the wey

tae somewhaur ither

than the place itsel.

No lik Nuala

wha stauns here an noo

in the hills an glens,

drawin oot the threids

o thir tartanry

an the lirks o thir

thripplin breists an sheuchs,

an maks pley wi thaim.

Lik a guid Scots sang,

mebbe, in wha’s soons

ye can delyte ’thoot

kennin a word o’t.