20 OCTOBER 2007, Page 38

Belfast to Edinburgh

For Michael and Edna Longley At the beginning of descent I see Wind-turbines cast their giant, spinning arms. The Southern Uplands send out false alarms, Semaphore shadows, all waving to me.

Then still descending, as the windows weep Or something out beyond the tilted wing Surrenders to the planet's suffering, Plural phenomena that never sleep, A far-off brightness shines on the wet plane. A cockpit voice says something about doors. The Forth Bridge is a queue of dinosaurs.

A field of poppies greets a shower of rain.

Douglas Dunn