Urbanisation. Poem by Cecilia Parkin
Urbanisation.
The crows swing silently
On the telephone wires
Like a row of mourners
Blackly attired.
Yellow hatted men toil away
Their saws screeching,
Nothing to say!
A tree topples, then the rest,
A small copse gone.
The birds screech and fly away
A fox begins to run.
Smart office blocks -
And tarmaced roads.
Urbanised - now part of town.
The fox begins his nightly round.
No birdsong in this blighted place
No swaying trees, no flowers to grace.
Neon lights - commuter rage
The price we pay for progress sake!
I love the message here. I think it's a shame how much 'country' we lose to ugly buildings. Nice poem. sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 3:15:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I agree with Mary, there is so much of this thing going on now and it's really scary! The trouble is they build such awful buildings in the spaces, ugly and a offence to the eye. What's wrong with our heritage? Sincerely Ernestine Northover