CILAN UCHAF
From a grassy cliff top, shorn by sheep and wind,
at the Llyn Peninsula’s southern most tip,
we can see across North Cardigan Bay
to Harlech and the heights of Snowdonia,
stretching east to Bala, south beyond Barmouth,
north far beyond Porthmadog. Below
are gulls silent in the thermals – beneath them,
a sickle-shaped cove of sand and shingle.
The ancient place name translates, ‘Highest Chamber’.
Through a gate, beside a fishermen’s path,
in some farmer’s field is an unsignposted,
small neolithic burial chamber,
looted aeons ago, of course, but its vast
capstone and the smaller uprights, though slipped
a little, too long ago to be remembered,
are effectively in place. Whether the stones
were already nearby – ice age detritus –
or had to be hauled from afar, someone
thought life mattered enough to acknowledge death
with a major piece of engineering.