Lament for a lost landscape

There are no trees in Orchard Ride
Nor apples ripe at autumn tide
Save for those in cellophane
From Tesco, Waitrose or some such name.

No roots, no trunks nor grass between
No insects, bugs or things unseen
Just bricks and blocks and glass and cars
And halogen lamps that switch off stars.

Published by

Richard

Training company boss by day. Poet and a whole heap of other things by night. Plus the son of a mother who was killed in a care home while living with dementia.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.