The builder holds the lump
hammer,
this one unswung, despite our debris
scuffing everything. He invites you to
speak, passing its barely tolerable weight,
inviting a swing, all knowing that
what’s half-broken needs demolishing.
Each blow reduces the chance to hide,
light funnels through and subsides us.
The sea breeze airs out the failing room,
whispering we can listen or live here.
We hold hands and the wall collapses.
We welcome the concrete’s temporary cuts,
knowing they will become our rock garden,
an altar to the process. And what’s left,
the rubble, we let the sea wash clean.
Mark Ward is the author of the collection, Nightlight (Salmon Poetry, 2023), and the chapbooks Circumference (FLP, 2018), Carcass (7KP, 2020), the prose/haiku/hybrid HIKE (Bear Creek, 2022) and the Choose Your Own Adventure sonnet (voidspace, online 2022/print 2023). He is the founding editor of Impossible Archetype, now in its seventh year.
More work by Mark Ward
Tel: 028 7126 6946
Email: hueditor@theverbal.co
Verbal, Stable Lane and Mall Wall, Bishop Street Within, Derry/Londonderry, BT48 6PU
companyCopyright © 2026 Honest Ulsterman