If someone in the town
Had warned Janey
About Reynardine
They would have saved a lot of money
On flowers

She walked to school
Along the snake-ridge
Of samphire and frozen mud
That joins Blakeney and Cley

The sun an iron shield
The ocean held down by winter
Like a master presses down
The head of an insolent mutt

Her hair was red
Her eyes alight
Nodding to the music on her headphones
She saw the fox trot to her side

But didn't hear it speak

She laughed as it capered
She giggled in shock:
Perhaps all foxes could bow.
Sixteen next Sunday: how was she to know about foxes?

Fingertip brushed button, silencing the boy band
Whose songs had never prepared Janey
For the old, salt love you find along the marshes:
'Oh, gentle Janey, you’ve stole my heart,'
Said Reynadine, then