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Longlisted for the Write about Walking A/way competition 2023
The rain did not disappoint, turned up ahead of time so that we magnificent seven, adorned With hope over realism and water over wax, took up our posts to receive the grazing looters. But they sit tight, steady in the downpour; geese have horse-sense. Not so young gunners bored, soaked, forlorn; Unvirtual creeping damp wicks and wins. Drench abandoned, wandering turn backs with empty shooters. If Greylags laugh they’re laughing yet, a squadron massed the now deserted line, grey clouds filled black with lags; Startled lads agape, caught flatfooted in their open disbelief. Were geese armed we’d have all been shot to rags.
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