Grey
When I was a child, 
the B1043 
left the A1 
north of home, 
and wandered, 
old and worn, 
bumpily and windily, 
through the villages 
to Huntingdon. 
 
Now, 
this old roads 
is unnumbered, 
and the B1043 
runs with the new motorway, 
as if an apprentice 
learning traffic.
 
How dare it! 
How dare it grow 
from old to young, 
from wrinkled line 
to long and straight, 
how dare a childhood fixture 
regain youth.
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