The Strawberry line

 Strawberry line

Two tracks infront

Always one step behind

Like a camel threads

Through the eye of a needle

So too must I thread on a treadle

Of yarn,

And spin my web,

In the ebb and flow of

The Bristol estuary

That awaits all wrecks

Of land and sea

The end of the tracks

Run down to the beach

And launch the great Iron hulk

On her maiden voyage

Steam ship of the channel

Fruit picked, picking its way through

orchards of apples

And row upon row of strawberries

Two tracks in front

Still one step behind

Out of sink in the blink of an eye

Replaced by the steel horses

That race or fly

As the horse was replaced by the bicycle

And I will be replaced by someone younger

More fitting to an age of enlightenment

Or else as it ran over

fields

It now is run over

By men and women on two wheels

Not forgotten, but marvelled at

Like walking through the rib cage cavity 

Of a dinosaur or Blue Whale

A leviathon of the past

That men and women some how constructed

On will wit and ingenuity

And the endurance of living

on a island, and wanting to get to the sea

Or wanting to sell their strawberries

Two tracks infront

But always one step behind

And the destination doesn't matter

As much as the journey

The climb is a trial,

But it is earning a living

It is living your earning

And it is working your body

Like the steam trains steel limbs

Shunting and shoving and hissing and spurting

forth steam, sliding on their greasy poles and rails

Pistons bobbing up and down, back and forth, driving iron wheels

Around and around

Much like the bicycles

We have trained out selves to be machine like

To be repetitive and determined

And strong

And tuned our limbs, muscles and tendons

For what though? May I ask?

To be able to sleep at night?

Or to be able to compete with what we see on adverts

Or perhaps simply to occupy our leisure time

Two tracks in front

Always one step behind