The Accountants

______________________________________

He was a father figure to the girls in the accounts department
When he said ‘good morning’ they beamed a reply with heart-felt blushes
Making with haste for their perches among the punched cards
Coded yellow slips in heavy long tin boxes
Carried like the day’s crucifix to a worn desk

 

He had a counterpart with equal status and remuneration
On the odd occasion he was in the office before the girls arrived
They would smile a warmer greeting to acknowledge him
To say to him they understood and had a sympathy
Because they had fathers at home who drank whiskey too
And knew too well the highs and lows of living
Breathing for years the refined vapours of pain