poor feller

Old Stone



Only a strong or lucky troll

scores a bridge

all-you-can-eat traffic

fresh air, the works

this here rock shelter

it ain't no bridge

really, not a shelter atall

et my share of aborigines

in my day but lately?

few stringy hikers

forget when last I caught one

can't cook neither; a fire here

would lamp me out

to what calls itself the law nowadays

tain't the script I wrote

fresh eyed, eager of tooth

and tongue

but it's the one I sing

we're a solitary folk

but get together anon

ain't seen ary troll in

long and long years

looked, I did, on a time

could snatch me a bridge now

may be, save I'm

cold now

old

hungry

weak

a hiker came by now

I'd have the worst of the meetin

nothing left for me

but take the way of all trollflesh

least my aches'll be gone


end