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Wasteland

Grey pebbled council houses once stood here.

Where two generations battled through life.

Grim reminders are all that are left beneath

This dismal sky.

A manhole cover sits amid the mud

Once the bane of a dedicated gardener's life

And surrounded by bright green soldiers of grass

Standing to attention.

Each thrashed into submission by whirring blades.

Now, where lonely tufts of grass still grow they are rebellious and defiant,

Whipping and lashing in the wind.

A humiliated fence post, naked

But for a single staple and

A single jutting stab of barbed wire is

Interred upside down, pointing to the heavens.

Isolated orange bricks lie in the grey mud

Where once, grey houses stood.

But here's a shoe-lace - red; a doll, Barbie, hips swivelled

Back to front...

Two dummies - two dummies?

Nestle together teat to teat.

Did they survive the demolition as one

Or did fate bring them to this tete-a-tete.?

Bright yellow gas pipes shock from the sodden earth,

Disconnected, disjointed they reach upwards.

This surreal flora stretches towards the

Promised rain.

Upended paving slabs, sit snugly

Side by side, huddling against the onslaught

Of the coming storm within this

Demolished wasteland.

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