Highdown Hill

Come with me up this wooded hill,
Under a swollen moon afloat in red louds,
For here is the Disenchanted Wood,
Where at midsummer under a few pale stars
Pale in the glare of a carriageway
And the yellow lights of  the black plain coast
No ghosts appeared, no spirits walked
Or groaned or portended.
The waste left by Romans, Saxons, and Canadians
Stayed in the ground under the rampart's remains.
The nocturnal European wasp caused alarm,
While overhead people watch movies,
The distant sound of  engines reassuring in the red sky.