I dare not think. Larvae splitting into
flying arrows, millions in cloud forms.
Trees over run, eaten from within.
Stillness, paused, frozen views. Fields
empty like schools in holidays.
No song to slowly wake you, or
accompany your walking feet
and antennae ears. Creepy crawlies
filling up the garden, your home
invaded. Windows constantly closed.
Fly spray, insect repellent, moth traps
in your handbags and pockets.
Fly tape dangling in kitchens, council ordered
just like the fire alarms that come with
a call. Woodworm, miles of slug trails,
allotments rampaged through. No organic areas
anymore, the ozone suffering once again.
Asthma rising, woods just candles without
flames. No meaning to life anymore.
A world without birds.
By Gareth Culshaw
Gareth lives in North Wales. He loves the outdoors especially Snowdonia. He is published in various magazines across the U.K. Visit his website here.