PLOUGHING TEXT

A.E. Houseman writes:
“Is my team ploughing,
   That I was used to drive
And hear the harness jingle
   When I was man alive?”

Ay, the horses trample,
   The harness jingles now;
No change though you lie under
   The land you used to plough.

My friend Deric
Is ploughing text.
    He needs no team
Just eyes to scan
And Hands to Hold…
    The paper ream.

There are no harness Jingles
No trampling Horses
    Just a comfortable chair
And a sharpened mind
To carve and turn…
    The Text that lays there.

I envy Deric:
A man of great achievement
    A few years my elder in Age.
Retired from acting in the World
In denial of his protean Self
    He gives himself fully to the Page.