The cattle spread like butter across the isles;
Ears were tickled by the malevolent intention,
Eyes were prickled with almost-tears.
The just-become woman lay unfeeling as blood droplets
Her virginity silently cried as the man withdrew.
This once-girl knew not the nine-month outcome.cl
She simply covered herself with left over modesty
Then walked, a natural action which she knew.
Time passed. Belly grew.
The girl-woman was blamed:
Her rose petalled face was too tempting, too indecently
A shawl was given to wrap up her new-born sin.
The cattle stirred, suspecting, anticipating.
They knew how these things ended.
The woman-girl was outcast and her village – universe
What choice did she have?
The cattle knew, had always known, how her story would
Skara Brae’s water source called.
Infant-sin and child-woman found the welcoming well,
Found it had endless caresses to give within its narrow
And when the well embraced them both
A familiar sound hurled itself across the isles.
The cattle were crying.