The orange leaves peer in through the window
Of my third-floor flat, their wind-powered wave
A gentle farewell. "Enjoy us! You know
We'll soon be sodden rubbish with no grave!"
Methodically, nature knows how to save
The value from this waste that is not waste
The fuel in coal, or symbol of the brave
And stubborn English, those white cliffs all laced
With aeons of sea-dwellers, ground to paste
Then hardened into sacred land, the flow
Of scouring salt sea halting. As we crave
More heat and power, extracting wealth in haste
We overspend, but we'll reap what we sow
So repay earth's account with what it gave
Mon 15 Oct 07
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