By Mary’s Holy Well A ribcage on the dune at Carna yields to the sky, a sprung clasp grown through by marram, harebell, scented purple clover. Pink arrowhead of orchid trembles in the absent heart, the lungs, wind-ruffled campion. No difference between breeze and breath in this emptied fox, or sea-sucked lamb, a newborn dead, its hunger eaten by grass.
