The concrete and riverside
flip flop driftwood and rope
harrier haunting a level of reeds
some policeman of phragmites
of seedy beards that bend and shiver
to the breathing Thames
and its godlike pylon
with chickweed toenails
and ravens for lice.
It’s an icon of a time
when England created
for an age when
she will but consume.
Marshland—
you will be deleted.
© Daniel James Greenwood 2015
Swanscombe Marshes is threatened by an impending planning application from London Paramount to turn the area into a theme park. This could have devastating consequences ecologically. Please have a look at the following links:
[…] decline in Britain? I don’t think it is. I visited Swanscombe in March and have written this poem. There is a petition by a locally-led campaign to save the marshes, please sign it if you like what […]