John Mackie describes the emotional pull of the island of Raasay, off Skye, and its volcanic peak of Dun Caan, a modest 1457ft high compared with the Cuillins, but exerting a strong grip on the imagination.

His poem comes from the lively northern compilation entitled Open Mic at Books and Beans (Malfranteaux Concepts, 2016, £5).

           EXILE

no more than a granite plug

to geologists who camped here

as students their tip-tapping

hammers sparking

lumps from Clachan’s shore

~

for us kids it was volcano

its head sliced flat by fire, we were

forbidden to try for those

icy melt lochans and eagles

the low cloud of Raasay scudding

raising menace high

~

we carried Dun Caan with us

to cities of exile; narrow skies

struggles with money and breathing

daily wars of value and worth

uprooted, anomic, but always

drawn back to the roar of The Sound

~

this is no Cuillin

but high enough

after the steep slope winding

through bog and scree

past acidic lochs full of cloud

to quicken the breath

and widen the eye.

~

up here on this plug

the fingers of kin

tug at my sleeve

tomorrow I walk with them

on Calum’s road.