The Price of Progress - Aileen Shirra

Chestnuts lie strewn on the cow grass
Cast down among the leaves by carelessly gusting gales
And prematurely aborted from their spiky wombs,
White underbellies betraying their vulnerability,
By fat- cheeked, scolding squirrels

Once, (was it a lifetime ago?)
Children sought these treasures as divers seek pearls
Lovingly harvested them, eased their birth pangs,
Guarded and nurtured them like fussy, broody hens,
(Were we once those children?)

Till they grew strong,
Ready to fight our battles, redress the balance of peer power
(For surely, even the underdog might breed a champion,)
And oiled and polished, gleaming like mahogany
They proudly faced their destiny

Now they are squirrel feed
As children work out their passions in an e- playground
Armchair warriors, with avatars as their champions
And pale complexions reflecting virtual lives,
Myopic gazes fixed on the future

Through dexterous fingers
They communicate the minutiae of existence
To random, faceless inhabitants of a parallel world
Neither software nor their own weak immune systems
Deflecting the incoming contagion

While beneath the chestnut trees
No darting feet indent the spongy moss
Or purple stained hands pluck the rioting, unripe blackberries
No-one thrills to the heady oppression of a thundery sky
And only squirrels are collateral beneficiaries

---

Aileen Shirra (born 1956) England
Source: Poem Pigeon