David Chadwick

A poem for the month - March 2018

Expressway

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Overnight the scene was transformed

The trees had gone; felled

Their massive trunks lay side by side

Waiting for body bags

The hillside stripped bare

Its naked back exposed to the sky

Lacerated by machine tracks

The ant people poured over the ground

Poured over their maps

“The road will rise here,

The flyover will swing west just there,

Support pillars here, here, and here.”

On we go into the future

Celebrating our small victories

Off to the side, the weeds wait

Serene in the knowledge

That given enough time,

They can break through concrete