How unsightly by day br Those old telephone lines br Back in the nineteen forties br Erratic moirés of copper br Thrust skyward br On flaking wooden poles br Marching to the contours of the streets br Forests of desiccated trees br Wearing conformist branches br And ugly porcelain fruit br Whilst the ever present wind br Played soft or shrill br Heard clearly by animal and child br Those singing wires in the valley. br br In the late afternoon br Birds descended to their haven br Rehearsing a nightly concert br Moving restlessly br From one stave to another br Living chords orchestrated br In depth and breadth br Against southward clouds br In darkening mood br Colour distils from the sky br Birds settle into silence br The medley of wind and wire remains br As we slept.