In Retreat

The crack in our farmhouse wall widens
enough for time and luck to run out and
             fall to the beach

where sea pounds cliffs to smithereens
recapturing fossils for repatriation
             to the deep.

Still defiant on the edge, a wartime pillbox
                                                            juts out
             before surrender.

An unsteady flame burns for soldiers fallen
in our dwindling fields, whose mangled badges
             still turn up.

I hide them from grandma who loves to show me
grandad’s medal from the Third Afghan War.
             He never came back

to see bullets fly through coconut gorse
or grandma take home-baked biscuits to the pillbox
             Sometimes she forgot.

She remembers when our old windmill had sails
as we watch the sun go behind, burning through its
             empty windows.

They say we’re OK for another year or so;
we’ll build a new place
             same carry-on.




Since 2010 Brian Clark has won awards in national and international competitions, including Ledbury Poetry Festival's Always be a Poet prize. His poetry has been published in anthologies, most recently Stone (Wyvern Works, 2011), and broadcast on BBC Radio 4. He has worked as a newspaper and magazine journalist, freelance writer, and in film and television production. He now lives in rural North Yorkshire.


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