Under construction
The sea moves slowly, like a muscle
under skin of pearl.
The sun is near invisible,
a perfect burning pinpoint that transforms the sky
from singularity towards
a bruise of fading colours.
The trees stand without tremor, without whisper.
Even the tallest grass looks sculpted, still
and far removed from the unruly sweat of dawn.
Now, from beyond the woods, beyond the hills
the sounds of manmade order:
bulldozers and trucks - and the sharp
and mighty drums of steel now being forced
into the soft and yielding earth.
The billboards show a new resort,
with golf links and an indoor swimming pool.
The smiling mayor’s head is smaller than the text balloon
that promises ‘The sweetest slice of Paradise’ to everyone.