Smokin’

~

The evening the supermarket burnt down

Four miles away in the town up the road

Its smoke funnelled out to the coast

Streamed high across the marsh

Curled beneath a front pushing from the west

Where the lofty plume lost height over the cool sea

Shadowed the sunset and emerging night

Carrying smells of charcoaled meat offshore

To be minced by the churning turbine blades

Of the wind farm on the shoals

.

CLP 28/06/2020

Published by

Christopher Perry

Liberté, Equalité, Humanité