On Overton Hill, an obelisk
in local sandstone marks the parish war dead.
Fresh graffiti partly obscure Worrall,
Egerton, Massey – names of Cheshire gentry,
villages, labourers. There is a solace
in landscapes, remorseless historians.
Below the hill, the town becomes a toy.
To the horizon, are laid out the pricey,
strategic illusions: refineries
distilling forests and the wide, poisoned
river narrowing to an ashen,
urban haze of broken streets, redundant wharves,
the memories of slaves.