A low frequency
From the depths of the factory
Stirs old memories within the ageing workforce.

The men who work opposite,
In the greenhouse,
Pruning the greenhouse walls—
Producing strawberries and raspberries at a considerable rate—
Notice the days begin and restart,
Bathed under LED light.

And all—
All the men, all at once—
Set down their rusted tools,
And endeavour to
Move closer towards
Enlisting in repetitive thoughts.