In our hardened grey habitat, it’s easy
to paint everything the same.
Unknowingly masking
the creeping green
and zesty feathers
shadowing over our shoulders.
Plugging our noses against
the rising scent of decaying leaves
gathered on kerbsides
and stray tufts of grass.
Our ears blocked to the coo of pigeons
strutting around our feet
as they wear their street-cool metallic hoods.
Yes, it’s become a mantra
that the urban world is one
in which nature would never
wish to enter.
Yet the beady eyes nestling
in overgrown bushes by driveways,
the scaled, vibrating wings
sheltering within garden sheds,
all the webbed feet
hopping into various paddling pools
(long since forgotten and swollen with rain)
quietly, quietly
whisper:
we’re here, we’re here, we’re here.
This poem is part of my #52weeksofnaturepoetry project to raise money for the RSPB . To find out more about the project and how to donate, please visit my Just Giving page here.
Sharing is also much appreciated, as I’m trying to raise as much awareness of our local wildlife as possible. The more people who appreciate nature, the more likely it can be successfully protected.
(Apologies if this one gets posted oddly, my Internet has been disrupted so I had to make do with posting this via my phone)
Treeshallow Musings 