Windfarm

Where emptiness once ruled
The towers now stand
where inertia lay
mills now rotate

The hills stand bemused
at the intruders
in their ancient
bogbound realm

A fast roadway is carved
where moorland once lay
in my slow ascent
of Meannan

Two dozen years
they’ll stand there
idle
though turning

The wilderness’s gone
reduced to tussocks
beside the roadway
to the windfarm