67 Buildings

A member of the Belfountain community has written this poem and we would like to share it with all of you.

A meeting at the town hall calls for 67 buildings 

I won’t call them homes.

The vast green forest that taught me how to ride my bike 
The voices of branches and birds 
That rode the wind through my window 
And lulled me to sleep each night
About to disappear before my eyes

And the developer asked citizens for feedback 
He got defensive, he wasn’t expecting the verbal attack
His black suit, clipboard and power point did not intimidate us
We declined the offer of a new town hall, a rec center, a park
He realized our thoughts can’t be bought by some superficial plot
To silence us

Not when I am speaking for the water and the wildlife

These 67 buildings 

I won’t call them homes, 

Are set out to destroy our very reason for being in this 
Hamlet of 300 people 
The tourists come to appreciate the quaintness
We live in the country because we enjoy our natural surroundings
This expansion would double our population 
Spilling out our water, splashing it into pools and 
Sprinklers to implement those status holding green rectangles of grass 
Emptying our aquifer when we currently have barely enough water to last
Destroying the habitat of the final area left 

The last area that development has yet to encroach on 

Sanctuary to monarchs, deer, Jefferson salamanders, indigo buntings

Sign goes up development proposal 

Our signs explode Stop sprawl 

Small is beautiful
Small is knowing every neighbour 
Sharing garden vegetables and yellow daffodils

Stolen signs lead to picket lines if you think 
I will stand by and pack my voice onto a silent shelf
You are wrong 
This fight can go on 

Because 
These 67 buildings 
I will not call homes 

Not when they are set to dwell 

Upon the home of someone else.

By Edi Cadham