Released by winter’s storm
you lay on wave washed shingle
below the crumbled cliff
your five rayed symmetry
outlined in tiny pinpricks
The shape of a heart
long since solidified
and turned to stone

I imagined Mary who scoured
this tideline almost every day
her life dependent on your kind
on the waved frond of sea lily
the bullets of belemnites
bronze gleam of snakestone
the poke of devil’s toe nail
even the fins of fish lizards

Your cousins still burrow
in the sands of today
I found their fragile tests
tumbled clean by the waves
but still whole as far apart
as Ynyslas and Luskentyre
now you share the same shelf
lie together joined only by time