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Horses and Steam

This piece of prose was written as a small tribute to the previous generations for their efforts and contributions to the conditions we enjoy today.

Horses and Steam

They can be seen on almost any day
In any country town
Old men who gather in small groups
Of three or maybe four.
They sit on the Post Office seat
Or the one at the local General Store.
Some sit on the small veranda of the Local
Stuffing and puffing their brier, and they
Yarn and reminisce
On the days of horses and steam.

Most have experienced war, some two.
But because of the relentless march
Of time, they are now few.
They eye strangers with suspicion.
“Who’s he” says one as a young fellow passes.
“Dunno” says another “never seen ‘im”
“Not a local, been here sixty years meself, still not a local”
And so it goes, but they soon drift back and
Yarn and reminisce
On the days of horses and steam.

So as the days pass, and
These men become few
They will remain in memories
Of all those they knew.
When you blokes have thrown off
Your mortal coils
Rest peacefully old warriors
But get together on occasions and please,
Yarn and reminisce
On the days of horses and steam.

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