CULLODEN 1746- 2019

Rectangle of grey-green grass and memory Holding 273 years of myth between its fingertips Its air calling to us: Lingering war-cries mix with June rain And fuel ghost-stories at family dinners Culloden lets people cross the bridge From contemporary Scotland to 1746, To a time ruled by Celtic law and not phones Tourists criss-cross each other on square paths With the same story taped into their ears: The story of the last time the land felt a battle above it: Blood and sword fragments fertilising the ground And fermenting the atmosphere around it But it starts to close in: The stench of the property market The modern world creeping up and over it, Inch by inch, The history we have taken centu

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