033: The High Street - Poem by Colin Johnston
Cut down by men in yellow coats
Without thought of future votes.
I hope their bosses feel this way
When polling day comes their way
In squads of six, to each they came
And so began the deadly shame,
Maple, Lilac, Birch and Oak
All destroyed at a stroke.
Done and dusted, in a day
So no one else could have their say.
Now, the Street is bare and bleak
Nothing natural left to peek
In concrete graves, roots lie in state
Waiting for their final fate.
From Overseas, their tombstones come
As if are own would not have done
Chinese slabs, to hide for good
The places were The Trees once stood.
Kirkcaldy High Street has had all its trees cut down.
The quickest I have ever seen the council work.
Lopped, sawn, shredded and covered in concrete in a few hours…
Colin J… 6th Aug.2010
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