8 JUNKMAN
I was aroused today
from my one-sided world
by a harsh cry,
and looking up I saw
the old Junk man,
his cart and horse.
And there was music in his cry!
The long drawn out R...ag B....one
the clipper-clopper of the horse.
And underneath like rolling drums
dull rumbling
of the rough cart wheels.
I looked at passers-by
who scurried on,
intent upon their own affairs,
as I had been a moment back,
and thought are they all deaf?
But then I saw the impact
of these two
was not just sound.
I watched the frail cart
as it climbed the hill,
a tipple-topple pile of books,
an old tin bath
some ragged clothes,
and battered carry-cot.
Just like a king,
the little man
sat perched upon the top.
While patiently submissive
to the man,
the horse with body steaming
in the wintry air,
in powerful rhythm pounded
out of sight.
They stood apart in my mind
all the day,
that man and horse.
They had 'a way of life'
those two,
a dignified simplicity
as folk who need so little
often have!