Mooching in his man cave
My brother finds the belt
Nailed to a beam its work day done
As though upon a shelf
It used to be his father’s belt
And granddad’s before that
Brown leather belt on trouser duty
In pit and pub and that
Heirloom of the family
A strap for every day
Sure and reliable
Never known to sway
Buckle belt to keep you sound
All your working life
In fresh air or underground
Now it’s yours our Mike
Trouble is we all expand
Girth an issue here
He’d have to go in training
If he wished to use the gear
So today we just acknowledge
The work that it has done
And leave it where we found it
In a man cave in Bolton
Brian Fahy
31 May 2022
Erris Poetry 