Trains and Stations (II)

Hello Poetry Lovers

I’d like to continue my feature on trains or at least the memory of boarding them. Didn’t we once take that for granted?!

Lovely poet, Trisha Broomfield, has not only emphasised the experience of waiting for one of these things, but that how cold a station gets. The wind really blows right through them!

Anyway, Trisha, this is a great piece, you really capture the atmosphere of one of our great institutions. Thank you so much. Everyone else – read on…..

The 8.17 to Waterloo is running late….

A man unseeing eating crisps,

plunging hand to mouth

packet to mouth,

another, wired, talking to no one

animated, eyes to London

words fall around him, littering platform 5.

Trolley cases

walking sticks

Costa cups

multi-national lingo

carrier bags,

the bitter cold blown by breezes

seeps into bones,

while the train waits

for signalling problems to be resolved,

and passengers

wait.

We perform this square dance

daily with and without the cold

sometimes the sun

cuts us up

as we edge ever closer to the precipice

nudging to be first

on the train,

waiting,

and waiting

and waiting.

Trisha Broomfield 16/07/2018

Wasn’t that a wonderful piece?! Beautifully written, thank you again, Trisha. Keep them coming.

Funny, reading that has actually made me cold! And Dobby’s shivering too! I’d better go before she pinches one of my cardigans – again!

Thanks for tuning in, we’ll be back with more poetry capers real soon…..