Out from the core
squeezed stone hearts,
so heavy of feet,
Lumbered on forward,
pumping and pounding, expounding
irregular beat.
Into the cities,
forests, villages,
the glens,
Trudging their muck,
gravelling paths
as they went.
New tablets hewn,
eschewing
natural will,
Passed to the future
legacies voided
then stilled.
Surveyed, as proprietors,
creative accountancy
sighed,
Despoiled, exhausted,
replenishment
hidden inside.
Back to their bothies,
striding inwards
shelter’d from storm,
Trolls suited
underground,
awaiting new time to be born.
scottishmomus 