Nature abandoned for interiors.
The sky behind glass bereft of stars.
No grass underfoot – carpets.
Just the distant sound of cars.
Walls are enclosures that deny space.
Radiators lend warmth to winter’s chill.
The world displayed on a computer screen.
For every ailment there’s a pill.
But there’s a residue of wildness
In the green eyes of a tabby cat.
Housebound too. His name is Herbert.
He happily shares our London flat.