Remembrance Day

Atlantic Sunset

Across a long stream
desperately flowing
stirred the clay,
where centuries’ toil
could be found.
A flock of creatures
wingéd sat
among the stubble,
thinking soil.
A wave, a burst,
not from heaven,
memory’s death
washed away
without a sound

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is author of Unbecoming American: A War Memoir and also Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..