Us grinding on granite, all nipply,
holding fist-force, face down,
giant stamp into hollow, our hollow
shaped to our feet, our home. Us waiting
for the onrush, cold tickle up and under
us know it’s coming with the moon, the swell,
the over-heard, the under-cover wash, us sessile
in the deep clear draft, one big-minded
opening, us orchestra –
us shift and whip our feathers
out into the soup, goodies pulsing, down our tongue
us a thousand million voices
us up for it, us take it in, the good flow.
Us no-hearted, single eyed, us streaming, plankton, streaming,
us snap opercula if else comes close,
us ragged as cat teeth, sharp as will.
All encrusters, haired with green,
us more than rock, us coast, us map, us England!
Sarah Westcott‘s first collection Slant Light is published by Pavilion Poetry, part of Liverpool University Press, and is due out this April, 2016. Her poems have appeared in magazines including Poetry Review, Magma and Butcher’s Dog, and her pamphlet Inklings was the PBS pamphlet choice for winter 2013. She was a writer-in-residence at the Bethnal Green Nature Reserve last year and lives in Kent with her family.