Kirkwall, Orkney

It's not that there's nothing to say.

It's that I don't know how to say it.

What I don't know how to say stays behind what's inside.

What's inside is what's beyond me at the time.

Sometimes I stop and take a moment to look at the other side of what's inside.

And what's inside looks like it's looking at me as if I might have something to say, as it did one evening in Kirkwall.