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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