Nether Hambleton

[In memory of the village submerged during the creation of Rutland Water]

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The ruling of the council is insurmountable
when Lincolnshire's parched;
and spares no medieval stocks
etched with obscenity,
but binds it all in weeds
and anemone, as if fearful the
whole lot will resurface.

I wonder what dim-eyed species
swim among the cobbles this very minute.
Do trout dart ironically around
the fishmongers? Or do cloudy beams of light
pierce the fructified depths
in the early afternoon, luring levitating life
to the market square?

Or has it all now collapsed, as science
would have us think, to a
formless hulk of space; only its name
preserving its shape -
an ashen cobweb of sound,
wistful and delicious
as if heard whispered on a
marsh wind.