Snowy Joe - Poem by Francis Duggan
He left the Snowy Mountains when he had turned nineteen
And in thirty years of travelling some strange things he has seen
And in this vast southern Country he has wandered up and down
And three months for him a long stay in any place or town.
Some three decades of travelling yet never unemployed
Though the years are catching up on him and time not on his side
And the passing Seasons have left their mark on him, his hair is silver gray
And he is not the man he was on his long gone prime day.
Yes he is not the man he was when he was in his prime
For even the strongest and fittest have to bow to father time
He once had a woman in every town though that now seems long ago
And for women he has lost his appeal the ageing Snowy Joe.
He has worked in the hardest of jobs worked with a travelling pipe laying crew
And shorn sheep up further north and worked as a jackeroo
And he has worked in city building sites from Darwin to Ballarat
And one might say of Snowy Joe that he has been there and done that.
He has fathered a son of which he is aware of though in his
upbringing no part did play
And if he met him on the street him he would not know today
He last see him as a six months old twenty five years ago last July
Another played the father role and helped to raise the boy.
An ageing fellow Snowy Joe the years have left him gray
But the wanderlust is still with him and from him will not go away
And he will be travelling up and down across the big Country
Until the reaper claims him whenever that will be.
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