Poem of the week: Gravel by Maurice Riordan

‘Could it be this basalt with the twinkle of schist'?’ … Gravel by Maurice Riordan. Photograph: Brian Hird/Alamy

For Frank

I, too, will spend an hour playing with the gravel.
Sorting and cleaning it. It does love the dirt.
Dead leaves, grit, seeds that can sprout. And it hides
the odd slug or worm. We can’t be having that!
Some of these stones have come a great distance.