Marram Grass in Sussex
Forgive Us Our Trespasses
My mother, who has always known
that Margaret Thatcher
merely practiced the neutral politics of common sense,
now knows global warming is a lie put about by Them.
And so it cannot be that here the sea is rising
its sandy beachhead fanning out across the coastal road
while forward lines of marram-grass drive back the heath.
It is for love of the land that the sea’s embrace overreaches.
The sand just wants to blanket the tarmac from the winter cold.
And, brought up to be polite (of this my mother would approve),
the deferential heath makes way for the marram.
Sarah Rowland Jones
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Sarah
Rowland Jones would be pleased to hear them.