Fools Gold Street Lamps

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

The orange groves of Florida have been

Killed off.  Their souls have gone to heaven where

They look upon their scars and us.  Where green

And orange were, they see the tracts of glare

Of residential roads and shopping malls

Or, worse, of bourgeois golfers’ country clubs.

The laid-out grid of streets and roofs appals.

The pattern of the zits of hot tubs snubs

What Florida once was.  Gray asphalt stretch

Of lifelessness where trees and fruit once grew

Makes true Floridians desire to retch.

Development destroys what beauty knew.

  Perhaps at night the lit-up streetlights glow

    For airline passengers who peer below.

~ Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Apr 27, 2025 | Uncategorized | 0 comments