“The Superiority of Nature”

Trapped as an unintentional consequence

of the weather’s sudden shift,

the mist of myth envelops the moors

and strands us in

the bleak backdrop of gothic literature and Hollywood.

 

It is not merely our innocence

whipped by gale-force gusts of change.

National identity balances on the tip

of some vast unstable scree,

the trip wire of ownership

sweeping through the moors in a line

we are told is defined by

long-held tensions over class

and clashes with

those who regard nature as a commodity

and live in listed buildings stripped down

to hardwood floors and wainscoted walls.

 

The veteran Naturalist, still boasting

a mind that crackles like a generator,

embraces a neutral landscape

rich with the smell of fresh air,

and revels in the magic of

a bird’s nest the colour of winter.

‘Found’ Poems