Scapa

Scapa Bay

South facing, sheltered,

some time home to battleships.

and frequently, more recently,

beneath the flare of Flotta,

tankers, forming orderly queues,

tugged neatly into line to unload oil.

Scapa Beach

Slightly curving, fine grain strip of sand

spins and drifts across the narrow

ditched-edged road

(the ditch to channel the highest of the tides

back to the sea.)

Scapa Haven

A one-time war time hut,

crane re-sited seaplane station

blocked in, domesticated

most conveniently

between a couple of distilleries.

The westerly a single word on white:

‘Scapa’ spelt across its zig-zag end,

the other, glorious Highland Park.

Black pagoda chimneys

adding exotic to the skyline,

black sheds and steaming drains

imparting a spirit sense of smuggler,

as the whisky reeking washwater

swirls out to fill the burn,

alongside which, on fence posts,

perch appreciative seagulls,

inhaling to forget their former sins.

Text and Images by Sandra Davies