Bags and Tools   I filled my bags with lumps of lead and stumbled underneath the load, and just when I was nearly dead I met a beggar on the road.   He drew me near and shut one eye: Give me your lead, I’ll give you gold. I dreamed of all the things I’d buy and left him there with what I’d sold.   My bags were lighter than before but still my tired back was bent; I found an ironmonger’s store and soon that shiny gold was spent.   And now at last I can begin with iron tools of every kind; I’ll dig a hole and throw them in and leave those bags and tools behind.     © Michael Fleming Granada, Spain October 1984