Skara Brae

All it takes is an Alice moment

ducking my head to go down the passage

into house number seven

and my huswif’s eye takes over

approves the stone dresser

(not much dusting), the handy storage cells,

the fit and bulk of the front door’s slab,

the mattress of bracken, the sheepskin rugs.

And outside a neighbourly village

of six tidy middens, some barley fields

and the Bay of Skaill spread in blue welcome.


I’ll take it. Move in yesterday.