Today we describe an animal.
Four legs.
It definitely should have four legs,
Because three would make it hard for it to run,
And five would probably make it trip up.
So it has four legs,
It has a tail.
A long and swishy tail,
That can be plaited or left free
To blow in the wind as it runs
Along the glen from burn to byre and back.
It is white.
Shining white, maybe more silver,
With an inner light
That shines as it wanders by the river
In the gloaming.
It stops to sniff a rose.
A small white rose,
A rose that has been written about
By another poet
In another time.
And its noble head carries
But one horn,
A unicorn,
The beast of mythology that carries
Hope for Scotland's future
In every hoof beat.
Not the jazzy and blowsy
Unicorn of the imagining of fools.
Not the plastic and fragile
Toy that the fools believe can steer their ship.
This unicorn has strength
And grace.
This unicorn can run forever.
(c) 2ndwitch, 23/04/19
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