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.