That I could walk down rusty ways

I am an accountant and had a terrible revenue audit on this day. I left the office, walked the canal and wrote this poem.

My friend Jackie Bracken was on the other side with his dog. I was facing the Tax Man. He was going into the field with his dog and stick.

O that I could walk down rusty ways

With a stick in hand and dog

Talk to neighbours about frivolous things
Fill my legs into rubber boots
An old cap and coat
Plough into a field of weather grass
Raise the Pheasant
Caution the Hawk
Sink into the abundance of an abandoned time


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