We hunch our houses on straight lines in this suburb
and beach our cars on various surfaces once front lawns
cars like fish that shine in rain / dead / out of element
so far from being alive we cannot imagine their first form
something living / green / I’ve heard it said
green begins beginning we’re told
but not often – more often the stories are of fears
of hopeless mechanisations and all the invisible scarce
we suffer from
but unassuming dawn still turns up quietly in gentle greys
and the few trees left higher than the houses
stretch defiant sticks from pollard stumps
Still Here they say
Still Here I say
then / the pigeons are back
nodding for bits thrown out to feed them
now and then finding
meanwhile circumspect and gradual lilac buds
and look / a gormless daffodil / gauche and early
grins shamelessly from its naked bed
poem and visual by Jo Mariner
This is a beautifully written poem; although for me, after one reading, it paints a sad picture of our environment – the tragic way we humans dwell and have allowed our planet to evolve, it does suggest nature’s determination and – the images in those last three lines a glimmer of hope: nature fighting back.
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Thanks arbara. EXACTLY
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