A range of patterns, a wealth of stone.
Bath Stone walls transform to limestone,
metamorphose to flint.
St Henry stands aloft in his nook
as a nearby dragon bays at the moon.
Limestone here is granular, oolitic –
fragments of shells in a tropical sea
washed by tides and covered in calcite
through many thousands of years.
We end in River Road – quiet today
with memories of shipping and trade.
Stone walls and broken buildings
have their own tales to tell.
Smells of chalk, smells of the river.
Glimpses of the past touch me
like light through small leaves.