A brawny arm reaches into the Atlantic –
all clenched thew, from gnarled elbow to bent knuckle –
clutching nothing between gigantic
forefinger and stubby thumb but buckle
of obdurate tide on gravel, lick
of wet salt in pocked groove and runnel.
Kehelland, Trethewey, Coverack, Castellack, pucker
its wrinkled skin like wens or carbuncles.
Mawnan, Mullion, Lamorna, Morvah
slither with Zennor like eels in channels,
or rise like furtive moles from under cover
of ridged veins and cropped stubble. Fluid, feral,
my own name, gripped between crag and ocean,
clings in its ancient rock-crease, a crustacean.