In the haunted North

A poem about the highland clearances.

IN THE HAUNTED NORTH

The hills and glens lie quiet now,
nothing to be seen from a century
of fire.
The sheep are gone, the stag remains.
Specks of white are ghosts to be seen.
Specks of white are all that once
could be seen.
The people are all gone
across the wide wide sea,
and down the line they went,
fire and force drove them out
work and poverty awaited them
In the haunted North.
Land of Lawrie.
Land of hope.
In the industrial North.
Mining ghost towns.
Mining lost towns.
In the haunted North.