My Car Red and Derelict

My car red and derelict
pumps life like a cigarette
goes here, goes everywhere
its fuel my fresh air
I call it my factory

My factory the dog and I
climb together high where the lowlands lie
snaking down we two cry
barren derelict this land we dry

there's some more verses to this poem but I have to find them. This one was written in the late 80s, when I was parked up in a caravan on a vegetable farm in the United Kingdom. We didn't call this climate change then, but we were well aware of pollution, especially in the northern hemisphere

#poetry #climatechange