Kay Fletcher
Us, as fossils
The cliffs had not held alight to this
legendary warmth, the hollow boom
of soft rock being split, and the ammonites
curled like trainer tracks over the long, flat slabs
that freeze like waves this side of the sea,
the crushed molasses coloured bands of rock.
I imagined us growing larger in this place,
our memories reverberating, solidifying,
until we contained our own strata
and the quieter we became, the older,
the more vast our shells loomed,
sucking space into them like bloated stars.
I looked at the sky for long enough
to see my own fossilised endings,
threads, old anchor chains, the debris
of a growth that brought me sight.
Page(s) 62
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