We do not come from this place

But from the earth,

Nowhere else can hold us,

Cradle us, as you do.

In summer, our thick-skinned heels remember

Gentle roasting grasses, soft under foot

Remember what used to stand here,

Under this black blanket singeing


So we make for the shore

Red, red skin and expectant bodies,

We seek out places of an undamaged far away

Past tides and emerald shadow,

Pockets of a once world where the memories

Flow oh so easily.

We were not made for this place,

Yearning souls and slithers of sky

Time capsules of primary colours and soft outlines.

Pull us to your slippery stones,

The animal reality leaking from cracks

In the pavement.