New Lens

Although it was gray
I was out and away
New lens in hand
and into Broadland
Which meant that the shops
Were replaced by dead crops
So I cold go and mourn
With the dead, brown, sweet corn.

Nature's bones rest in sleep
from time immemorial so deep
until the age of growth & change
when new sun on land doth range
and brings an end the long night
as life begins in living light
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