To say this about Wales . . .

To say this about Wales . . .

We're a remnant 

Of land 

And a people.

Our language 

Was compost 

For graveyards. 

Our farm hands

And labourers 

 Were shipped to the gas

Of the Somme.

It's a place 

Not even in Wales

To perish like rats 

For a peace 

That never could last.

And I'm torn 

To know
Why? 

In
The rain 

On the wind  

Now
Over the hill 

And under one remnant

. . . the dragon