Old Roads by Eilean Ni Chuilleanain
Missing from the map, the abandoned roads
Reach across the mountain, threading into
Clefts and valleys, shuffle between thick
Hedges of flowery thorn.
The grass flows into tracks of wheels,
Mowed evenly by the careful sheep,
Drenched, it guards the gaps of silence
Only trampled on the pattern day.
Signed - National Poetry Day September '09