New Motorway Poem by Jon Holloway

New Motorway

Cobweb grass on bare legs stroke
Pounding heart, breath like smoke

Cloud shadows run races below
We rest, sit with faces aglow

See the valley as a bird
High up, eyes blurred

Town map has red roads
Up here the map explodes

Eating forest as it grows
A new blue line flows

A blue line of noisy death
Animals take their last breath

So you get to work on time
And make everything shine