YAWNS TO A STOP

Here's a poem about meeting someone off the train late at night. I attended a workshop about trains last week ran by The Write Box poetry group. Thank you Bob and Sue.

we could be the three last people on this earth

cold as the bone in this post midnight chill

the station is as silent as sleep

then the light

rounds the bend

yawns to a stop

is this the carriage door

the one you will explode out of

telling tales of cheek by jowl overcrowding

no seat until well after Bristol

of course it isn’t

we hug and walk home

The poem is pretty straight forward [aren't they all]. It is based on a real incident of collecting my eldest daughter from the station. She arrived on the last train and the place was deserted. It's not complete yet, needs a rewrite or two. 

Here's Hurray For The Riff Raff. The new album is excellent.

Until next time.