In 2012 eight Bronze Age boats were discovered at Must Farm in Cambridgeshire.
Your shadows drift by in their wooden craft,
where we walk in heavens above your heads;
where you once sculled your boats and laid your traps,
to feed your families and warm your beds.
We walk where birds once circled overhead,
Heedless of the peace you've lain down to seek;
Resting in the boats carved to earn your bread –
Themselves now resting in congested creek.
We drive these roads; your islands are long gone,
Made one by hand of time and seaborne silt;
Your waterways, now dry and paved with stone,
carry wheeled craft where blood and sweat were spilt.
Your secrets, slipped into these beds of clay,
Lay waiting for the scalpel light of day.
Copyright © 2013 Colin Whyles