Another one!

Here is a slightly lighter poem from a long time ago again.

I used to live in Wiltshire and the land really rolls. It swells and moves like an ocean.
This poem was an observation on that.

The Land is the Sea

The land is the sea.
A deep swell of hills and valleys
Quickens into trees that break
In green foam;
Burst in slow spray amongst the field’s
brown shallows.

Cities are the winking plankton.
Embers in the black hollows;
Hanging on time’s tide
Like leaves torn from the wind’s current.

The land is the sea
But the sky is itself always.