some of the walls of Mardale Green
which was framed by Cumbrian hills,
a village flooded and sacrificed
so that Manchester had water to spare.
There are ghosts wandering amongst the stones
lying sad and alone as if bleached bones.
Oh, it is not a glorious return
and soon the rains will cascade again
its history forgotten except by
historians and ever distant ancestors.
But now I visualise village life:
picturesque Mardale Green in its heyday
before the water...took its life away.