Digger

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Today, as I waited for dusk to dawn on quiet Canach,

a giant deviant dinosaur devoured great lumps of concrete

outside my house in village lanes and fields.

Fickle, fretful, yellow, with prehistorical precision,

I watched the mechanical monster from the safety of my window,

As it ferociously gulped down wire and grit

From the ancient farm opposite.

 

The barn had stood for many years

Quietly passing time in gentle Canach

With yellowing wheat stores

And stumbling cows

Home to passing, fecund seasons.

 

Now our view is not of a crumbling farm

With mysterious, dark buildings, housing rumbling

Tractors and squealing pigs.

A rambling greenery, speckled with little wild flowers

Adorns the ground.  Blue, clear skies surround us,

No longer filled with towering grain stores.

 

Thank you, dear dinosaur, noisy and jumpy as you were,

Bashing your way through local history, feasting on concrete

Boulders in your wake, levelling, brightening, consuming

And sending house prices soaring as the dust settled behind you.


© Iona Waters

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