Here are the Tribes from which I hail
The Hobbits of my Shire
The re-users, repairers, recyclers
Savers from landfill that fields may flourish
Salts of the earth dwellers
Early birds who catch the worm
Out in the cold
Fuelled by hunger to over-indulge
in all things merry
Dancers happy in simplicity
Comedians cut by teachers’ sarcasm
attended no classes –
they’re a class of their own
The JAM tomorrows who live for today
True to themselves and trusting of none
Proud on their pins –
not scrounging welfare but scavenging bins
Disregarded regarders of the discarded
Magic menders of pre-loved dreams
Lorries full of broken treasures
Carpenters, seamsters and craft-sellers
musicians, poets and storytellers –
The talented that globalisation never minds
but we will sorely miss
Inspired by a village auction in the New Forest, Hampshire
November 2016 © Southampton Old Lady
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