Remembrance Day

by T.P. Wilkinson / November 8th, 2020

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

T.P. Wilkinson, Dr. rer. pol. 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..

This article was posted on Sunday, November 8th, 2020 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.