On a hill I live

On a hill I live
Not too high above a busy street
The sounds of tin cans
Rattle my soul
When the day breaks
When the night falls
Silence eludes
Where trees once stood

On a hill I live
Not too high above a busy street
The gentle breeze teases me
In this sweltering tropical heat
There is no reprieve
Not amongst the grey and cold

An occasional chirp
A distant bark
The faint scent
Of freshly cut grass
It’s open fields I see
When the shades are down

Drilling, hacking
Whirling, rumbling
Knocking, slamming
The green turns to grey
On a hill where I live
Not too high above a busy street