Route B

Route A is for Sundays to Wednesdays, but on Thursdays it is route B,

As I go to the unemployment office fulfilling my rightful duty,

I am cloaked by amazing sights for me to absorb and ponder,

Green lush grass edged with trees, red roofs of houses yonder,

And in the distance the Judean hills grey and ever so blurred,

The sky, like sea, a cloud or two and the shadow of a bird,

To my other side I am hedged by olive trees and shades of blue,

From rosemary bushes with flowers either pale or of a royal hue,

The only thing spoiling my pilgrimage, this idyllic country walk,

Is the road which intersects the field with the sounds of traffic talk,

In the summer by a tap, marked for dogs is a bowl,

I wonder if they can read the sign when they care to stroll,

Reut to my right, Macabbim to my left, I drink in all things beautiful,

And think of the money I am going to receive making my Thursday walk most fruitful.

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