new town

New Town

A new town fell from the sky landed
in my back yard and spread onto both
sides of the valley. Perfect, semis and
small, frugal European cars, coloured
dustbins, for glass, plastic, potato peels
and uneaten broccoli. I know they are
aliens, too perfect to be real, too young
and smooth skinned, all children are
two years old. I say nothing, for when
the summer is over and it rains, they’ll
melt away and sheep can cross the road,
as before, without fear of being called
Welsh lamb, and eaten; or have the wool
stolen off their backs