We have lost a friend:
She who’d happily accompany,
Whenever we ventured this way.
She might slip alongside
With quiet laugh, silver smiles;
Other times, boisterous –
Circus acrobat leaping, twisting, tumbling.
Happy in high summer just to murmur;
Raucous, the rejoice of heavy weather:
How she loved rain!
Now, when we take this route… No companionship.
No cheer; not one gleam of hope.
What has become of our dearest friend, the stream?
They have taken all her water away.
Her pool, drained: moorhens bereft, swans fled.
From all around, so much groundwater stolen
Her spring has dried, died too.
I dare say they claim entitlement
To have pumped and to keep on pumping still;
But a legal right can be a moral wrong.
So never mind, for now, how our hearts do
Sorely miss that good sweet water-song –
This isn’t, for us, a matter of life and death!
When greedy humans kill a stream for profit,
Heavy the price that Mother Nature pays.
© Christopher Jessop 2020
