I looked at the old post-card,
the houses like a growth from the soil,
the peaks towering above them,
a sign of the majesty of God,
before an amenity was made of mountains,
or a divide between work and play,
between the sacred and the secular...
and I passed the picture to the old man.

'Does it make you sad, Lachie?' I asked
as he scrutinised it in silence.
'Sad? Bah! Not at all!
I just couldn't place her for a moment',
and he pointed to a cow in the foreground.
'That's Yellow Lady, Red Lady's second calf -
I'd know any cow, you see,
that belonged here in my life-time.'