LITTLE HUNGER I drove to Little Hunger promontory looking for pink stone in roofless houses huddled by the sea to buy to build my own. Hovels to live in, ruins to admire from a car cruising by, the weathered face caught in a sunset fire, hollowed with exility; whose gradual fall my purchase would complete, clearing them off the land, the seven cabins needed to create the granite house I planned. Once mine, I'd work on their dismemberment, threshold, lintel, wall; and pick a heartstone from a rubble fragment to make it intregral. -- Richard Murphy