I feel the frisson
of a collision
And dreamt it coming
And dreamt it coming
Between the hum of the humble-bee
and the blind yelp of the barcode bleep
Between the thumb and the palm oil plains
and the deforestation rains
Between the icecaps and the rising seas
and the fuel moguls mendacity
Between their war torn suppliers
and the stench of the famine pyres
Between the stained sheets of media
cooperations and politicians
What can the poor do but fight one another
What will the rich do but run higher for cover
Can the young teach us a better way ?
Come the day which of us will have the final say ?
With the growl of the arching waves
With the scowl of the heavy skies
I dreamt it coming
I dreamt it coming
A collision
A collision.
©Bryn Hyfrd
I juggle poetry, children and work, attempting to keep most of the balls in the air most of the time.
