Emerging from a tunnel, the train slows to a gentle halt.
Bare rails alongside are linked by concrete sleepers,
Bearing the word Tarmac: unlikely thought.
Evening sunlight highlights drifting willowherb seeds
Carried on a lack of breeze; bullied by exhaust
From between silent wheels.
Green banks enclose us in leafy isolation
Half-way from there to somewhere else.
Nowhere in particular.
And not even a station sign to inform our location.
Bare rails alongside are linked by concrete sleepers,
Bearing the word Tarmac: unlikely thought.
Evening sunlight highlights drifting willowherb seeds
Carried on a lack of breeze; bullied by exhaust
From between silent wheels.
Green banks enclose us in leafy isolation
Half-way from there to somewhere else.
Nowhere in particular.
And not even a station sign to inform our location.
2 comments:
Hi Anne - were you visiting Adlestrop ... sounds an amazing little place - what a fun and sad poem ..
Cheers Hilary
Actually I was on my way back from a meeting in Manchester. We were just outside a lovely spot called Totley (which has a VERY long railway tunnel). It just felt like Adlestrop, the poem.
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