Part Two - Sandy Wilkie, 15 November 2020
Cold wind, here I am on the western margins of the Mendips.
System of a down, national lockdown.
This landscape, although one of probable early settlers,
monks, agriculturalists and French Prisoners,
feels closed and eerie.
It would be hard to cast your eyes across the Channel
in the cold winds of winter
and keep the wolf from the farm-steading door.
This coastline like many would have been open to arrivals.
Yet now this country seemingly desires to shut it's borders
to immigrants and new ideas.
I find an old apple tree, felled by the wind and cut in situ.
I find evidence of World War Two defences
and a spent firework from recent days.
The trig point on the tumulus,
a coastal beacon may have stood here.
Signalling hope.