ROCHDALE CANAL

THE RAG CANAL

Well in the suffocating month of August '86

As even the few rain spurts failed

We took to swimming in our own back yard neck of the woods

There the canal was

And a more enticing prospect than the river Roche

Which was closer

And more approachable

For the likes of rats

And shopping carts

And hooligans

Plus, there is no real flow to a canal

The stagnant nature of it

Although a breeding ground for god knows what

Meant that we could sedately

Tread

Water

We are dogs and hippos

Wafting lower limbs

None of this whooping and bombing and belly flopping

Kids off a pier

No white horses, no foam, no splash, here

Instead

Eye level with a towpath of history

Looking at the smashed windows of the big old mills

All of this unused at the moment

And no danger

No boats here anymore

The grasses untouched for decades

Waving their beards

Wait

Perch could be nibbling though

And pike are biting

It's we who are bobbing and weaving

Ducking and diving