© 2019 Kitty Macfarlane 

Photography by Todd MacDonald - toddmacdonaldmedia.com

MAN, FRIENDSHIP

Well met is this wind that blows kisses in my face

The cold and the storm can't make me forget that taste

Well met is the rain that stamps lines upon this land

There's not much that's sweet and simple about this place

 

We're told the seas are rising

But this stretch of land I will defend

The wetlands are flooding, fading is the lapwing

But these small creatures I'll curl my body round

 

I will build my house out of sticks

And moss and spider's webs

These branches aren't safe these roots won't hold forever

There is no comfort in these threads and fibres

 

The cliffs may fall like lego blocks

The forests may dwindle to dust 

But if the bird a nest and the spider a web

Man, friendship

 

Well met is this wind that blows kisses in my face

The cold and the storm can't make me forget that taste

Well met is the rain that stamps lines upon this land

There's not much that's sweet and simple about this place

But there is much that's sweet and simple about this race

 

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