When I am old I shall apply for a bus pass

and roam around Cumbria’s roads on the 555.

I shall sit upstairs at the front of the bus

with a stick and my rucksack,

with a flask and sandwiches

and imagine I am a falcon flying up and over Dunmail Raise.

 

I will use my bus pass every day,

even on days I don’t need to go anywhere;

I shall scan it just to hear the beep of another free journey.

My bus pass will clock up miles in the system from overuse

and my face will stare out from the plastic

and I won’t care how tired and wrinkled I look …

 

I will be out and about on rainy days and sunny days,

on busy buses and empty buses,

and whilst being aware of my bags and belongings at all times,

I will see the world as defined by

the Westmorland and Furness Travel Scheme

(linked as it must be to Section 146 of the 2000 Transport Act).

 

When it expires, as data protection regulations insist it must,

I shall go to the library at an allotted time

and regale the assistant with tales of my travels,

of the wondrous sights I have seen

and the fascinating people I have met on my journeys

as the system is updated to prove I’m not dead.

 

But while I wait for that day, the day of English eligibility,

(as referenced in Travel Concessions Order No.2010)

until I reach state pension age, 67 at last reckoning,

I must be patient for freedom, sit quietly,

look through my window while the seconds tick by

and my dreams of a bus pass come true …

 

or move to Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland

or Greater London where 60 is the magic age.