Tag Archives: Halloween

Great Orme

On the north Wales shore a fat rock serpent
coils out to sea clasping copper tightly
within as a Dragon clasps gold

Deep in his gut lie human bones
children who delved into the dark
hunting the shine with hard flint

In tunnels too small for adults
troglodyte children crawled and twisted
lived and died alone in darkness

Bats explode from a cave entrance
sprawling tourists like scattered chaff
the dead come for their vengeance
three thousand years they have lain here
the daylight is theirs at last

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Burning

English summers, often damp, can invoke long stifling twilights
nothing landbound needlessly moves
contrails crayon across the sky
so many, this close to London’s hub.
Distantly, the buzz of a low plane, pleasure rider reaching up
into the realm of the starlings as they susurrate
a car comes past in the lane droning away round the curves
here the runway cross remains
the old tower still stands intact
as ponies munch and cattle chew
larks lurk in the grass where bombers once turned
occasional ironwork testament to hydrants and gun emplacements
war and weapons layered over by Nature and time.
But, as the dark deepens, the lost come home
tearing blazing incandescent screams rustle up drowsy birds
look up and the dazzling burning blurs past
metal screeches as it tears apart, each time the same
one last attempt at landing whole, at bringing the crate home
so wanting to see sweethearts and Blighty again
then gone, back to oblivion.
The burning pilot saluted you as he passed.

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

This poem first appeared in Peacock Journal earlier this year.