Midsummer
I sit,
wide-awake,
at some
ungodly hour
It’s midsummer,
the middle of the night,
yet it’s as
bright as midday
on a dull
winter’s day
I gaze
at the
Graemsay lighthouse
in my direct
line of vision,
counting how many seconds
each gleam lasts
and wondering if
I’m going to get
any more sleep tonight.