The WaterwaysA Poem by David Lewis PagetWe’ve navigated the old canals Since the roads were blocked with cars, And we were stuck when the highway truck Rolled over the top of ours, They poured a layer of bitumen Across the roofs of them all, Then crushed them under a steam roller Until they were flat, and small. They didn’t bother to pull them out The ones who were trapped inside, Just wrote them off the accounting books And made a note that they’d died, They needed to halve the ones who lived Or the earth would sputter in space, Spinning across that great divide With the death of the human race. But we got out, and we made a break For the fields and the old canals, And found a deserted barge afloat Thanks to the help of pals, We got some paint and we cleaned it up, Made it all right to roam, Then once inside it was quite a ride And started to feel like home. Most of the waterways were clear With some of them overgrown, I’d send Gwen Darling back to the rear To steer while the weeds were mown, I’d scythe them out of the way ahead And steer the barge through the gap, Then rest at night by a harvest moon With Darling Gwen on my lap. I’d bag a hare on a winter’s night And steal the milk from a cow, The earth was dying, but we survived And Gwen kept asking me how? ‘We’re going back to the way it was Before computers and such, Before the Banks had us by the throat When love was lived by a touch.’ So still we wander across the land As they did in the days of old, Those ancient barges, covered in dust But laden, carrying coal, There’s a merry fire on a metal hearth And an oven, full of a goose, And a woman’s wiles, to gladden my heart As her stays are coming loose. David Lewis Paget
© 2016 David Lewis PagetReviews
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