At Ravenglass

The soil is layered deep with dusty remnants
of the Bathhouse. Viridian glass, fragments of
red jasper, horn, enamel, are pressed between
the delicate bones of small, long-dead creatures.

In Spring, the scent of Thyme seeps through
veined earth, lingers on the salted wind, blows
across a sea which carries still, threats and
promises from the Celtic heartland.