For The Sake Of Progress
D
David Harris
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We wander down the paths,
we used so long ago, when we were young,
before the world we now know.
Down the country lanes, shaded and narrow,
by fields of wheat and marrow.
By sunlight, by moonlight, we lazed on our way.
Passed the green lands we did not stray.
Years have descended on us and our pleasures there,
it made a waste land of our garden fair.
Air is more darker.
Factories belch smoke here and there.
No more the soft white clouds, or birds on the wing.
Just black pools of floating fish,
while greasy faces smirk.
The green of fields are replaced,
for the green greed of crispy notes.
No longer postcard pictures,
but sewers up turned towards the sky.
The faces are not happy, their scorn is waste and wild.
Another of natures landmarks, scared black every row.
For the sake of progress,
or at least they tell us so.
2 June 1981
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