Fay Slimm.

Wild Land.

Wild Land.

Who visits this wild land sees,
in the vision-bright eyes of birds and beasts
where grass, wind-bent
and weather-dried clings to high cliffs
for dear life as granite shelters
no more than hovering feather and rabbits
who stay close to their hides.
Where eagles keep day-watch for movement
in heather of bobbed tails, or white
hopping ears in habitual
cocked wariness then like a knife of forked
light the predators fall.
Fern-fattened fur leaps or freezes
in prey-fright,
eyes glaze and stay frozen as falcon attacks.

Such is the dictum
of law and order among the creatures
surviving in wilderness
yet persist in a fierce kind of freedom.
Who seek for behaviour
in those being true to themselves owns
that this island has places
where human-less only nature controls.