Deja Vu?

Stands Scotland where she did?’
Glamaig certainly still stands aloof,
but now half-hidden in haze
as though regret shivers through
even the bones of the earth.
How many years of misrule
have trudged sullenly by 
while that mountain stood
in shimmering indifference
to our stupidity?

The surrounding, defining sea
is unnaturally calm -
perhaps stunned by disbelief
into silence,
its swells and rollers gone
in deference to our gullibility?
The ‘Yes’ sign sits forlorn
on Eilean nan Ghobhar,
stinging us with its rebuke.
It will weather as quickly
as the promises will be forgotten
and soon look just as shabby.

The soft, quiet air hangs down
over an unhappy Sabbath
like the quietude of resignation.
Where are the storms of outrage?
the lashing of angry breakers
against insulted rock?
Where is the howling wind of indignation
at the bitter memory of a land
that all too meekly grumbled
at lies, Poll Tax and stolen resources
and learnt nothing - nothing! -
while MacRae’s ghost haunts us yet,
reeking of unanswered questions?

Stands Scotland where she did?’
who knows - who cares?
After all the hopes and dreams,
all the years of wishing and waiting
come tears of futility and
the anguish of deja vu.

@ Elfstone 21/9/14
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