Tuesday, 25 February 2014


I feel the frisson
of a collision

And dreamt it coming
And dreamt it coming

Between the hum of the humble-bee
and the blind yelp of the barcode bleep

Between the thumb and the palm oil plains
and the deforestation rains

Between the icecaps and the rising seas
and the fuel moguls mendacity
Between their war torn suppliers 
and the stench of the famine pyres

Between the stained sheets of media
cooperations and politicians

What can the poor do but fight one another
What will the rich do but run higher for cover

Can the young teach us a better way ?
Come the day which of us will have the final say ?

With the growl of the arching waves
With the scowl of the heavy skies

I dreamt it coming
I dreamt it coming

A collision
A collision.

©Bryn Hyfrd

I juggle poetry, children and work, attempting to keep most of the balls in the air most of the time.