‘By the Motorway’

These trees and fields which owned the valley

Till ‘dozers ripped their peace apart

Ask me straight: “When does this racket

Ever, ever stop?” “Only”, I must confess

“When the world goes deaf.”

Suddenly

We’ve wrought the oracle

Our wish at least half-true – Though packed from end to end with lots

Of giant coloured boxes

The carriageway is quiet

Fields hold their breath

Trees turn their heads

And I do both, and wonder ….

Within a blue-light flash

We all know why – We sigh, and realise

The twist within the sorry tale

As told in modern days:

The siren’s song is heard OK –

But not till after

The catastrophe