valentine
you are not here
walked by retreating tide uprooted oarweed has left an arcing trail one hundred & ninety four paces long
sand’s mirror of the crescent moon’s camber across kingfisher sky
sun cast water shadow ripples & bubbles on
ridges of sand the ebb moves across
surface coruscating with brilliance
oak leaves flattened along sand edge
oystercatcher imprints
Tornado jet contrail
thirty five curlews plainsong wheel & silver into that white
lichened anticline & syncline rising straight from the seabed
the print of hinds’ feet on the foreshore
a herring gull sings
heron & grey crow make refrain
where do the sea paths lead
where do the boulevards of cold sky lead
& the heart’s trance
looping & winding each other
as sound follows ear
as sea follows eye
as the heron invents us all through the flat shine of the tidal pool
you are the lichen inspector
you listen when the mussel beds crackle
you grade the ocean’s weeds
kelp & bladderwrack
you measure the frost inching up the oak bole
you speak to the troubled wren
& I’m islanded here where
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