IDRIS DAVIES

High Summer On The Mountains

High summer on the mountains

And on the clover leas,

And on the local sidings, And on the rhubarb leaves.

Brass bands in all the valleys

Blaring defiant tunes,

Crowds, acclaiming carnival,

Prize pigs and wooden spoons.

Dust on shabby hedgerows

Behind the colliery wall,

Dust on rail and girder

And tram and prop and all.

High summer on the slag heaps

And on polluted streams,

And old men in the morning

Telling the town their dreams.