where whispers of an ancient forest
urged exploring feet
to cross mud-peat and pewter sand
though eyes appraised, instead
dragon scales of long-drowned bark,
gnarled roots moored in brine.
Two winters past,
strong tides, I am told
exposed oracular holes – hunter-gatherer homes,
and there we found knapped flint
and bleeding stumps which transmuted
into rusting wrecks, barnacled and muscled.
On Norfolk coast
where wintering thrushes rest
on Holme Dune Reserve enroute
to southern berths
and Canada geese raise anchor in sky
Marram marshes and lagoons
harbour turtling coots
and sand flats present sanderlings fidgeting
and as we encroach, scurry off samphire feet burred.