A tractor engine roars

At the side of the road

As a gorse fire burns in the hills.

Towering hedgerows boxing in

Precious fields of luscious grass

Must be kept tidy

According to policy.

Shattered stems, broken branches

Littered along the grass verge

For the sake of tidiness.

The fire up above purges

The land clean for sheep,

Turning the hillside to desert.

The smell of diesel and wood

And burning decay intertwined

Under a blood red sky.