From the burned bones of the broken big birds
Radium glows, green for danger.
Everywhere the tide has wandered it;
except, into the cirrhotic conscience of the M.O.D.
And ranged against it, a protection agency too effete even
to protect its own dignity.
Swept under the carpet of national security
They failed to move the rocks high enough
Or bury the frowning advice deep enough
Fifty years later
An ulcer rots between the toes of the shoreline.
Roddie McKenzie