like mollusc shells
gnawed
by overlapping waves
do we lose our ridges
when we’re left unanchored
the sky has settled low
upon the feeder dykes
on the west shallow bank
near the ravine
I shuffle limbs of fog
come and collect me
from the peat
take me
towards the swell
where ancient crags cut the valley
lamb me amongst
the heath bedstraw
aerosol me
upon your wool
for pulses that remain
