Lincolnshire Windfarms
***
An epoch
Of giant clocks expand
Across sea and land
Swallowing nature
In their impatient spin
And rapacious span
***
A meadow of metal petals
All planted in a row
Flowers in the wind
Petal propellers spinned
***
A fleet of alien aircraft
Have landed
In a field of wheat
Noisy propellers of jets
Make the surrounding ground
Windswept
***
The noses of a sqadron
Of spitfires, all routed to the ground,
Have no where to go,
Their egg-shaped engines
Sit in feathery clouds
High up in the sky
And rolls of hay below
***
What do they lay ?
When do they sow ?
***
I tread lightly
As I return to track
While a swarm of swallows
Swiftly sweep and swoop nearby
As if reclaiming back the sky
Copyright Jane Air 2011
Copyright Jane Air 2011
***
Published on page 14 of Louth Leader 23 Nov 2011
***
Published on page 14 of Louth Leader 23 Nov 2011
***
