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.