In Praise Of Lochranza Distillery Poem by cahen thrips

I talked to a man who stood on a ridge
looking across a valley towards
the rise of Goatfell.

See how the landscape changes, he said,
when you step a few inches to one side;
closing one eye, I followed his slide.

Oh yes, I replied, as the sunset turned
the mountain side red.
For a moment I was under his spell.

Of course he didn't exist.
The evening does funny things to the mind
of a stranger on the Isle of Arran
especially when he's seriously pissed.

January 2023