GRAND DESIGNS

Herons and egrets rise from the same shared ground –

a silted tidal estuary – rise

among expanses of marshland grasses,

vivid as shamrock, darker than samphire;

fly north on measured wing beats towards the sea,

to fish where the tide is slowly ebbing.

Beside the dirt path in the wild border

are campion, vetch, and bird’s foot trefoil –

scatterings of gold and purple and pink

and ancient names among the stinging nettles,

those tale-tellers of broken habitations.

Each sandstone block of the now redundant

two mile long sea wall was planned, ordered, paid for,

quarried, cut, carted, meticulously laid.

Now, in its foundations, scurvy grass grows.