Jack Sands

by

Hay Machine

Silver whiskers decorate the chin
of the gas company furnace stoker
(who walks to work so early)
they are rarely ever seen
he returns at seven
a blackened giant
with his lopsided gait
shooting stammered
ack-ack greetings
to all-commers

Matty with the Anglia
blessed with all the brains
lives in far off Skerries
where he generally remains
bee-hive Bree with poodle fifi
keeps the house and makes the tea
for Peter Sands
he with the dwindling tool kit
living all his life quietly
by the graveyard wall

Go down to Peter Sands
and ask him for a coal chisel a spirit level
a clawhammer and a sharp bandsaw
up the plastic strip politely
laid along the hall carpet neatly
there to catch Jack's soot

Jack Sands shovel hands gentle giant
landmark in the navvy-jacket
the gasometer you filled is gone
and so are you

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Painting
by: John William McGrath III
from: Mesa, AZ, US

To visit all of Hay Machine's poems, click HERE

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