Away across the green from the council houses
is a small open field with a pond and a dry stone wall.
Fifty years ago this land was all like that – open and free.
Now that land is gone, replaced by bricks and concrete
with no personality and no life at all.
All that is left is the single field with its myriad of life.
More of a puddle than a lake, better than tarmac
with small frogs and fish. One day this will be gone
all in the name of progress—
till then I enjoy my time chilling by the pond.