Sterile (Poetry)

01st December 2017
They want a sky plucked clean of wings
a land where nothing squeaks or sings
a vista carved with concrete trees
no rot, no reek, no critters, please

Dame Nature’s messy in her way
the seasons change — the leavings stay
most want their wildlife on TV
not close at hand and running free

The ruling’s come — DON’T FEED THE BIRDS
small petty minds produce such words
demanding we must now comply —
some old law quote to justify

No time for feather or for fur
they stage a squirrel massacre
cull feral foxes, poison rats
these killers in official hats

There is no safety and no rest
for any creature labelled “PEST”
discrimination’s deemed okay —
just load the gun and blaze away ...

No life is sacred — beast or man
drawn back to where it all began —
a sterile garden with no song
the dream destroyed — the spirit gone