They found a wooden wheel
At Must Farm in the Fens
A village from three thousand years ago
Preserved in silt and water
An ancient world revealed
Revolving power
Take me to your door
Our wheels today are madness
The wheels upon the road
We drive our cars at speeds
Too reckless far
Cocooned in music boxes
Blaring noise and sound
We show for other users not a care
This damned combustion engine
Has given free rein to men
And we can be so foolish at the wheel
My father drove at leisure
In Ireland joyous time
Never fast never heard a squeal
Electric might be lovelier
And cleaner too I guess
And benefits there are in motorcar
It’s us who can be idiots
Not caring what we do
And carelessness the killer on the tar
I’m glad now to be walking
Or sitting on the bus
The train and tram are transports of delight
But cars marauding motorways
Fast forwarding to doom
Provide us with a sad and sorry sight
Brian Fahy
9 May 2021
Erris Poetry 