Collector Plates For Sale

The sun bears down on to a grassy hill
like a cake inn a cook’s oven.
The flower tosses and turns in the wind
like a boat in an ocean gale.
The leaves come streaming down
like a group of sky-divers from a plane.
The noise from a tractor interrupts the peace
like a goal scored at Wembley.
The river carries a broken branch
like the shopping crowds carry a lost little boy.
Picnickers arrive in a car, squashing life in their tracks
like a Government suppressing the people.
The birds come down from their nests to collect crumbs
like a Salvation Army collector at your door.
and darkness descends on the grassy hill
like a slowly shutting pair of curtains.
The woods become silent
like a road after a curfew in El Salvador.

The next picture is our holiday in Germany in ’79.