walk the route of
winter bitten posts
To the raw wood stile
follow the grain of the land
knots stains the scar of a cut
blackberry brawls
rabbits thump
Over the hedge
there are spades broken slates
rotten fangs of tractor
stumps of farm shed
one cross slumps at the ground
In the soil
I smell older earthworks
Barrows ripe to burst like acorns
The land swells with dead kings
their blood coronations
have breathed into me
Before the teeth of glaciers ground runes
Felt over the girl's face of the ground and
Pocked it with great stones
I have held a hoe over this earth
Sunk stubborn feet into this soil
The keys toothed wards turn
The door locks shut
Outside, allotment of winter
Beech leaves smoke a bonfire tang
The warmth of spent breath
At low tide
The smell of mortal sickness
Mesh of nets
Humped against a wall
The beach's broken ikons of war
Savagely rusting
Show me a starfish
apricot limbs open
forsaken grace on the shore
I shall cradle the image
Set it
A wedding ring
for the waves