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.
No comments:
Post a Comment