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.
the bitter cold blown by breezes
seeps into bones,
while the train waits
for signalling problems to be resolved,
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,
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…..