I don't often miss

I miss Scotland almost as much as Wales 

There is a freedom of soul there that consistently awes me. 

To stand next to ice cold water flowing by. looking down into valleys and up into mountains  at the same time.

 The taste of fresh caught trout fast rinsed strips of liver prior to hauling meat home.

 The hillside changing winds refasten that collar chill scream of falcon freedom 

Life greets me shakes me  paints memories to soothe my soul

 The woods of Maine remind me and restore me

 but 

  beside waters salt or fresh  I miss ancestral whispers laughing at my wants

Reviews

[Beccy]

'I miss ancestral whispers laughing at my wants.' That line says it all; it's precisely how I feel about my beloved Wales.

Beccy.

[Tomás Ó C..]

The heart of the exile...

[613]

I like how the title of the poem & the actual content of the poem are the complete opposite. You really made it work. Great job!

- Brittney