Rathmore roads

I plan to leave this lovely fountain,
and set my feet towards the mountain.
In fact, I walk for a good two hours,
without experiencing any showers,
and will now describe an incident,
which happen while my car was mend:

In the middle of the countryside,
where the meadows are sweet and the water is wide,
a farmer stopps to have a chat
with the only walker he ever met,
on this road near to his place.
That interrupts me in my thoughtful trace.

But he did not look like woe:
“Where are you from?” and “Where will you go?”
So about my whereabouts he asks,
with an interest he hardly masks.
And of course: “What brought you to Ireland?”
I just manage to say: “On holidays we went…”,
when by an approaching car,
he has to drive on. But not very far;
he turns the car and then drives by –
I do not really understand: Why?

Why does he not stop to hear the end
of my story? Then I understand!
Of course! I mention that I am married!
With that he lost the interest he might have carried.

©Sabine van de Sand, 2015-11-25