Dead Derwent,

where late the live fish swam;

dead forests,

where late the old trees grew;

dead trees

“where late the sweet birds sang”

dead docks

where now “Big Men can Fly”

and car horns clang

where players fight

and crowds harangue

and where the shore,

once peaceful, calm and clean

a place for Veterans’ thoughts serene

will reek of beer and rank meat pies

and now resound to screams and cheers

abuse and violence, threatening leers,

instead of haunting seabirds’ cries.

Janet Upcher has lectured in English and French Literature, is a published author of fiction, drama and poetry, and has worked as a freelance editor. Outside the world of literature, she runs marathons.