A ploughed field by the sea
I miss you more than the sea*
Light rain has fallen
The rain revealing napped flints all along the field’s boundary
My snares were not set to hold you
But only cast as my heaven’s reach
Now proven so much less than your gaze’s measure
Glinting catching the light
Still sharp lying there
These old worked stones
* Paul would like to thank his friend Genevieve for this line.
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