Fat lazy salty whore
Rolls brassily into the river’s maw.
Under a counterpane of mist
A blanket of oaks cloak the valley
Down to limpet pocked rocks
Teased by the lardy tarts petticoats.
On, in, swell diminishes to lap.
Fox and otter quarter the shore
The rising tide and sun
dressing the mud in sequins.
Working boats steam seaward
Gulls dogging ploughed wakes.
Sip and plat of my oars
As they turn the meaty water like spaded sods.
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