The Cart

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Inspired by the cart on the patio at Carob Cottage, Ilgaz, North Cyprus

The Cart

Broken down cart
Ornamental on patio.
Past cargo
Hay, grain, carob and olives.
Cypriot Wagoner
Long gone.
Donkey or horse
Living engine, now dead.

Journeying here
Pulling there.
Carter whistling
Sometime singing.
Folk songs of old
Clip, clop beat the hooves.
Rattling chains
Rubbing hames.

Iron clad wheels
Sparking in the night.
Harvest of grape
Olives to press.
Ornamental now
Long gone times.
Shed a tear
For the Wagoner.

His grandson now drives
A bus, a taxi or a car.
No loads for Dobbin
No fetlock scar.
Rotted whip
Supermarket trip.
Grapes in plastic bag
Olives in packet.

Ruts in track
Filled with tarmac.
Grooming stopped
Painted polished metal.
Stable down
Diesel, petrol pump.
Feedbag discarded
Empty of hay and oats.

Land no longer sweet
Nor fertilized where roads meet.
Crops neglected
Tree not pruned.
Cart drying, rotting
Chains rusting.
Talk to the car but
It cannot neigh or bray.

Horses’ Winter breath
Steaming in the dawn.
Lets go, lets go
So that I get warm.
Start the car
Oh, Oh, battery flat.
Pat the rear to no avail
Everything dies with time.

Pluck some hair from tail or mane
Bow to violin.
Sad refrain
Come back again.
Ghost walking, clip, clop
Through the night.
Bearing loads
Of memories bright.

 

 

memoriesmodern poetrypoetrytimes pasttransport

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