The crows swing silently <br />On the telephone wires <br />Like a row of mourners <br />Blackly attired. <br /> <br />Yellow hatted men toil away <br />Their saws screeching, <br />Nothing to say! <br /> <br />A tree topples, then the rest, <br />A small copse gone. <br />The birds screech and fly away <br />A fox begins to run. <br /> <br />Smart office blocks - <br />And tarmaced roads. <br />Urbanised - now part of town. <br />The fox begins his nightly round. <br /> <br />No birdsong in this blighted place <br />No swaying trees, no flowers to grace. <br />Neon lights - commuter rage <br />The price we pay for progress sake!<br /><br />Cecilia Parkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/urbanisation/
