Hiding

The machine will not stop.
lights keep flashing
Pistons thumping
Churning out
Junk

They keep building
Brick on brick on brick
Ever taller
Wider
Capacious

We have gathered
And hunted
Standing
Surrounded
By our kills

The cruelty of boredom
Is corrosive
Flames
need a spark
To ignite

Calder

The mist is low over the valley

Concrete grey walls entomb us all.

Even the incomers

With their bunting

And better ways

Of living better lives

Feel the dread

Of living with yourself

Etch-a-sketch

Let’s write new stories.

In chalk on the pavement

About nothing and no one

The rain will come

and wash them away

When it has dried

We will start again

leaves falling

rust growing

Machines seizing

Fuel running out

As we forget

How to make fire

And return to the sea.