The dust that descends over roadside hedges, <br />On walls, fences and along the edges, <br />Comes from the ever moving needs, <br />Of vehicles, racing at tremendous speeds. <br /> <br />Unknown destinations, their one concern, <br />Doesn't matter that they continually churn <br />And splatter mud, simply everywhere, <br />Once they've gone past, they never care. <br /> <br />The dirt on the wayside then settles and dries, <br />Even on some startled and irate magpies, <br />Making really sad, dreary and sombre views, <br />In dull, dismal colours, not nature's hues. <br /> <br />And only by a heavy abundance of rain, <br />Will it be cleansed, and turn green again.<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sad-dreary-and-sombre-views/
