#2,459 A Plough’s Line

This is a plough’s line eyed
on chalk downland
[all tilts
of erosion & flint-set stone]
& a moment mine –
alone –
with mis-fired mind –
silty –
We have sucked on dry soil
[enough is enough] –
I’ll tire
of groundwork & retire to a
house with wide sea views
of turned back migrants –
furrow formed by a swell is
filled-in by scattered selves
[& failing buoyancy aids] –
align an ill thought
slower drownings] –
My age
will be fixed in noble stone
in a worm-thick churchyard
[travellers lie in scant loam]