I checked in to The Fox at Shipley last week
and ordered a pint of Plan Bee bitter,
the same for you, father, as we had a natter,
of this and that, the past and the future.
We tore up Plan B many moons ago,
settled on another route, one remembered
for its sights and adventure, revisiting
those possibilities, Plans C and D.
Now, those ideals have been shredded
by time, and to simply exist seems enough,
the warm glow of this characterful micro pub,
and sipping this complex, warm amber liquid.
Simply to exist in each other’s company,
drinking Plan Bee bitter, future schemes
disregarded, in favour of adventure,
which requires no planning, whatsoever.