Crakaig Millhouse, Isle of Ulva
This is a hard island,
History has ground out
A past with a coarse grain.
Here, in this broken mill,
Two millstones lie mute,
Their edges like parted lips,
Lichen clinging like crumbs.
Now, only the wind scrapes,
Only dark crows scavenge.
Ferns feed on emptiness,
Drink the damp of old tears,
Bury the stones of past lives.
Yet, see how those clouds part,
How light swallows the grey?
There is always life,
Always a means to sustain.
Memories feed us all,
Here, you can have your fill.
Derek Ross
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Photos-Poems-Haiku 
Reblogged this on Art, Music, Photography, Poetry and Quotations.
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Beautifully penned Derek. Such wonderful imagery.
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Thanks for that Goff, Also fair chuffed that you re-blogged it 👍🤗
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Pleasure. Great read Derek. Stay Smiling.
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I love this, Derek! I agree with Goff about the wonderful imagery.
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I took lots of photos here, but they’re all on black and white film! Must get them digitised.
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