Register Tuesday | June 25 | 2019

The Little Train Stations

A Poem

Once retired   the little train stations
Violet and rose like faded bouquets
Drift along in clear weather
Lazily dream over peaceful routes
Infused with fluid azure

Simple spirits   they invent steaming vapours
Trains from hell to flash through the night
Nostalgic arrivals and departures
A whole brouhaha of hugs   long out-of-date

The ragged breath of the past   raps on carriage doors
And lost footsteps return
To platforms grown wild with weeds
And bewildered silence.