He eats (a moment's stoppage to his song)
The stolen turnip as he goes along
& hops along & heeds with careless eye
The passing crowded stage coach reeling by
He talks to none but wends his silent way
& finds a hovel at the close of day
Or under any hedge his house is made
He has no calling & he owns no trade
An old smoked blanket arches oer his head
A wisp of straw or stubble makes his bed
#photography #poetry #environment
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