Arthur’s Seat Kelsey Rolofson
The pathway parts tangled naked underbrush Traverses burgeoning thickets of prickled thistles budding inviolate, blooming soft lavender warmth I gently nudge through the sea of laving petals Twinkling magenta bells line the worn stone steps An ascent marked only by rolling majesty of clouds fading brilliance
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Below, ancient town nestled within blue-green crinkles Ahead, vast expanse stretches the sea into melted heaven I arrive, take my seat and settle in. Shroud of dimmed cloudlight. Flash of wind. Swirl of gull. A drop here and there They whiz past, pelting and pecking Sharp pitter-patters as I tumble down the steps A crest rising up to meet me The stairs shrinking away at the smack of my feet Elastic skin tensed by threads diametric Lizard-rain slithers into veiled glossy eyes A slip— a grasp for the brush— Ballooned gloves with a crimson smile Tiny serpents mired in my skin Little Nessies wriggling the mirror face of the loch Garden of criss-crossed trestles and unfurling waves Snail in curled marble shell scooting alongside The dancing arc of the swan’s neck, the curved face guiding the street Open-eyed scribbles, dusty lashes, brushed brow Glowing pools of sand-speckled golden wash Grassy hill flecked with floating moon A splinter memento still dwelling in my fingertip
