Jamie Grant: Two Poems

Climate Change   Rain rushing over roof tiles, lush grass in the lane, loose smiles on the faces of farmers and gardeners in places where former hardness gains the texture of fruit jelly; rain that soaks the roots of every growing crop and vine, that falls in a slow line from the top of walls,   that lets life be restored. Yet what lines are overheard in shopping centres and offices except for complaints that the professors at the Bureau got their forecast wrong again, women anxious, for their long preserved permanent hairstyle cannot afford a drenching, while   businessmen…

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