CANAL SONG

Today I saw mallards

fed crumbs by a local drunkard

stumbling from the Grapes

onto the murky cut.

He crooned a forgotten song

that floated on the wind

as narrow boats chugged past

a chalky towpath

old as ghosts of workers

mean-eyed, coal dust-coated

heaving sacks and urging horses

in days now deemed heroic.

It guided him home

under mossy humpbac...

Read and leave comments (2)