If I look at you from afar I can see that you’re quite scruffy
Your paths aren’t made
Your vegetation’s sparse
Rocks pilled up on you like spots
Skin is crinkled on your earth
It’s as if you’re old when you’re young
And I’m measuring being old against you
Well not me, I hope to last longer
but someone will walk past and think
I hope I live to see this all open to walk upon
Parkwood Springs Landfill
We’ve seen it happen before, dirty ground turned verdant
Here it’s the gorse and the broom and lupins that stand out
Later in the spring yellow washes of rape
the lupins stand really strong now
and I am going to measure myself against you
I’ll see you come to life and your fences taken down
I’ll walk over that young face and remember that it was old already before it was young
Very lucky to see such a cycle
If I do
…