The hills sprawl
Massive, muscular,
Recumbent
Under a heavy cloth
Of tussocked grassland,
All clefts and edges soft-draped.
Colour is muted
To a sandy fawn,
Lifted straw-gold
When the autumn sun
Is ticked by the wind,
Mottled dun
Under racing cloud-shadows.
A pylon breaks the sky-line
Tied to its fellows
By perfect catenaries.
Each structure a steel-clean net
Of angles and verticals,
Struts and diagonals
Rigidly aligned.
Aloof and elegant,
They stride
Oblivious
To the dormant land.