Hadrian’s Wall
At last I could make it out
A narrow walkway
Rising from the grasping earth
Loose and crumbled stones
Tumbled from once good order
And straight alignment
Fallen randomly
Into the coarsest tussocks
Of grass and mossy ground
Out here on the windswept moor
Miles from civilisation
Amongst ice and bitter cold
Lie lichen-covered blocks
In faint traceable patterns
Which snake and wind their way
Across the forbidding landscape
Here long-abandoned evidence
Of ramparts, towers, turrets
Interrupts the regular line
And there a garrison fortress
Provided basic shelter
And some rough respite
Against adverse weather
And painted barbarians
Invading from the North
But is this all there was?
So little sign these days
Of any forbidding Roman structure
But the merest thin grey line
Of no great height
Weaving through the frozen land
To be defended at all costs
By the toughest Legionnaires
At the very end of Empire
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
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