Flooded Somerset Levels
Flooded Wasteland
Viewing the new wasteland,
furrows and burrows now gone.
Freshwater once collected here
then fanned out, leached
to
the seams of streams and rivers.
Bog meadows raped and moved
for rich developers who approved the
houses built on silt and piles
on flood plains that covered miles and miles.
All instructions for flood lie in redundant files
Spiders used to sit and knit
their webs, catching flies,
and other insects.
Nymphs would rise from small pools
become rainbow dragonflies,
whilst harvestmen would hover
over damp fields and lay their
eggs for the next year.
Swallows would swoop and scoop
taking dangerous turns and dips
before the insects could slip
away to be got by a frog.
Now it’s a flooded wasteland, a desert
of drowned amphibians who
were forcibly moved on like cattle
to die on flooded savannahs
which were previous fertile fields.
The landscape, landscaped out
to red brick and concrete now,
stands as a monument to
man’s true folly. No ponds or
bogs for the vanishing frogs.
and things won’t change it seems
while the weather turns to extremes.
Floods are no good
for amphibian dreams.
Copyright Diana Leighton 7th February 2014 - on the Somerset Levels.
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