Wetlands
What want you here?
Your feet crush heads
of wild garlic
break virgin arms
of temple bluebell
I come to shrive
I come to shrive
You let me be
speechless
midstream
quieten head noise
I lose shape
lose tongue
see life
in limblessness
decay a feast see
greatness fallen see
in small succulence
hopes of earth
water sky
last and always
seers
