The Stars & Stripes flew, or rather hung, from the horizontal:
A startling statement in this ‘one-horse-town’
That has, today, become my home.
It’s not the ‘Land of the Free’,
Yet, at the risk of rhyme, it is to me;
Hidden deep in the green of another red, white and blue,
This Tricolore Francais of we: me and you.
In another age, une autre langue
It was ‘Left at the Carpenter’s Arms’,
Now it’s ‘A droite a la Rue de la Natte
En face du Horseman’s Store.’
It qualifies as a town in exactly the same way
As AFC Bournemouth qualifies for the European Cup:
Never in a month of Sundays
And only in its wildest dreams.
To take the title of ‘village’, even,
Bruebach would have to punch way above its feather-weight.
As places go, it’s a bit short on stature…..
But then, that makes two of us, I guess.
Tony Jolley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-horse-town/
