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9. How it goes Evolution theory suggested we were once the colour of the sea. But now we match, it’s true, ash from a disposable barbecue. 10. Moraine A barricade the sea builds against itself. There’s coal in it, and coral, flints and flinders, but when I stoop I stoop for a child’s shoe, still laced. 11. The Future Not a soul now, not a sound. If it’s true I am the only one then I might move inland, find a mansion, dine at the Duke of Westminster’s teak table, lick the paint from his last Lorrain. 10
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12. Plastic White and mauve as a marble Christ. Here’s another god who wanders the world, its rhizome in the rabbit-hole, its hosanna in the wind. 13 . Home But until I know what the world wants of me I will stay here, the moon curved like the conger’s tusks, these waves, dark as marrowbone, breaking where I know they’ll break, stopping where I say. 14. Summer I look round: here’s honeysuckle’s hooks and sickles. Meanwhile, the yellowhammer – little goldsmith of the gorse – has arrived. So, summer’s come. Time to go, I say to myself. It’s what my blood believes. 11

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9. How it goes

Evolution theory suggested we were once the colour of the sea. But now we match, it’s true, ash from a disposable barbecue.

10. Moraine

A barricade the sea builds against itself. There’s coal in it, and coral, flints and flinders, but when I stoop I stoop for a child’s shoe, still laced.

11. The Future

Not a soul now, not a sound. If it’s true I am the only one then I might move inland, find a mansion, dine at the Duke of Westminster’s teak table, lick the paint from his last Lorrain.

10

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