The first she prises out, clenched in bindweed:
reluctance adds to its appeal.
several flints conspire their surfaces glass-perfect, all the better
to slip in without fuss. From mud, she frees a stump of the fat chalk Down
walked each day, as worn as the worsted that parcels up her reedy body
ready for anchoring. Pebbles lean into her, take us they say, take us,
the floods are coming but like Noah she must leave some behind,
(first published in Agenda Vol 46 No. 2, Sept 2011)