Wilderspool Causeway

You have the shells that we picked up
from the beaches we walked on
on those rainy summer days
down near Barafundle Bay.

My problem with The National Trust:
I feel my thoughts have been greenwashed.
A ranger’s bland deep gold and green
says to me ‘It’s all been seen.’

Woe against the world:
you’ve seen it and it’s good.
The times we were alive
were finely synthesised:
a café and a run
on Hastings waterfront.

In the frost you found a bird
on a branch above the brook
and in the yellow of its wings
there was a flight you hadn’t seen.

Woe against the world:
you’ve seen it and it’s good.
The times you were alive
were finely synthesised.
A café and a run
at Romsey, Ganger Farm.

In the crematorium grounds
sculpted gardens radiate out
from all those parallel rooms –
is there a ferryman en route?

Woe against the world:
you’ve seen it and it’s good.
The times you were alive
were finely synthesised:
a café and a run
at Boscombe in the sun.

Woe against the world:
you’ve seen it and it’s good.
The times you were alive
were finely synthesised:
a café and a run
on Hastings waterfront.