Hazel Buchan Cameron
Hazel Buchan Cameron Poems
Comments about Hazel Buchan Cameron
My father – ‘Big Duff’, strode ahead with hounds in line.
I scrambled on, always several steps behind.
He covered the ground at pace, narrow roads, stiles
and country miles of grassy fields; pausing only
to lift a scurrying shrew; show a pee-wee nest
or let his dogs run free as I caught my breath.
He knew the terrain; recounted old tales
of warlocks and the last witch burnt to death.
Today, my son takes me across his new turf.
My legs and heart quicken as I try to keep up.
He calls his dog to heel with a click of his thumb
points out a falcon above, ...