Dunwich

I found a fossil
A stone stem
Amongst the marigolds

It came from an ocean-root
And all our homes
The park, electricity substation
Were tenants merely

At the brink
Cliffs are licked away
Like shrine-stair
By palmers’ boots

The brine sucks,
Tongues, persuades
Like Reynardine
‘Come with, come with.’

Bulldozers
Shoulder aggregate
Flotillas heap
Boulders off Waxham

In Dunwich, they say
You can hear church bells
When the wind’s right
Tolling out to sea

Cley: I take a pebble
Arc it back
Ahead of the rest