You come, you say, where it is your right
to stay in defence of your heritage.
You come with your children, your dogs,
your tools, your, white, gleaming vans.
You come with all the trappings of your trade,
your pick-up trucks, your cars and your money.
All night in my bedroom, your generator hums;
a sleeping giant grumbles in my ear.
You come on Good Friday as the sky wears
its shroud and the telephone lines fall silent.
On the hillside lies the gleaming stone,
rolled away too lightly and too soon;
there is no hope here, though, only sprawl and spill
and the clamour and clash of modernity.
You come, you say, in defence of your heritage
yet you batter at the gates of my peace.
© Abigail Wyatt
Abigail Wyatt lives in the shadow of Carn Brea near Redruth in Cornwall. She is in real danger of financial disaster due to a series of planning decisions taken by Cornwall Council. The most recent of these was to evict a group of travellers from the car park of Carn Brea Leisure Centre and invite them to take up residence in a field just a stone's throw from her home. Abigail hoped to sell her house this summer. Now a sale appears most unlikely.