A prose poem

 

Yes?  No?  Yes?  No?

Yes!

Some worms from the compost heap in a tobacco tin with de-sliming grass, hooks in another tobacco tin, one in each of the breast pockets of a secondhand black leather coat given to me by Duncan. Fishing rod in two parts with the thin eye of the upper part through the large eye of the lower part, hook still attached to one of the eyes. 

Down the side of the terrace by the post office and on to the black path to Upper Bank station and then on to the saddle tank line. Follow that, sleeper to sleeper, past the engine sheds and take the branch line to the left past the Pluck pond. Roach are not the prey today but trout! Follow the line through the wet stone tunnel under the main line and on past the derelict Mannisment works and the cooling pond for RTB foundry Landore, with its pipes spouting steaming water. 

Coots crawk at my passing on to the Grand Canyon cut by a stream through a thousand years of industrial tipping ominously white. On the left a breakers yard of rusting steam engines some still have their names proud but sad in brass arcs. On and on to the gasometer, squeezing past the "no trespassing" sign by the tyre fitting building. 

Now, try a worm in the golden rust pebble rapids of the short stretch before crossing the Neath road hard to the small slaughter house and on to the long stretch to Llansamlet church where grandpa is buried.

Fishing all along upstream in the flumes between the chick weed. Trolling the worm sometimes snagged sometimes vacillating to the muscles of a struck trout.  The small stone arch bridge offers a seat for a while with the worm trying its luck under in the shade.

Now the last stretch past Llansamlet secondary modern school (rough) and on to where the stream dives under a culvert in towering dull red brick railway embankment wall. Hell Las is up that way, but time to turn back now and maybe try that long thin stretch of a tributary by the arched bridge.

Got a few trout in my bag for tea.

It’s a long way home as the afternoon winds down as satisfaction stirs the rushes.

Yes was the right decision!

Way down upon the Swanee river