Among the Dunes

I remain
In the dune slack
With wild and tiny thyme.
Some time asleep
With Creeping Jenny
Clover and the common vetch.

Above me
The high marram
With a touch of couch
Where from
The lark rises
All lift and tumble
Tossed upon a cloud.


Today I drown
From the plashing
Of the night rain
And my lips
Are tainted
With the rust
Of forgotten nails

What would it be
To live in clover?
Take away the sea
I could be yours.


JL Sept 25. 14:16