A Westray Prayer

i.m. Mike and Barbara Heasman


Let is now give thanks

for these salt-blown


wind-burned pastures

where outgrass and timothy

shrink from the harrow of the sea


where Scotland at long last

wearies of muttering its own name

where we may begin


to believe we have always known

what someone in his wisdom

must have meant


when he gave us everything

and told us nothing.


from Grain (Picador, 2009), © John Glenday 2009, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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