be rolling out of the Shoulder now,
Loud and boisterous through the village
And up the steep of Hunger Hill.
Puffing and groaning onward they'll climb,
Their banter stilled by beating breath,
Until they reach the lonely pine
And look, to see .... no view,
But lights on Earth and stars in heaven.
There'll be a heady panting pause,
A space to think what time it is,
As headlights snake towards the village
Obeying the call of distant bells
For faithful, constant worshippers
And those who kneel but once a year.
The distant town will call them too
Copyright © Alan Williams. All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.