tagNon-Erotic PoetryRailway Graveyard

Railway Graveyard


Dust comes in clouds as the slow train pulls out
of the old station and the hawkers’ cries
are fading down the platform. Even here

I see trains have grown scarce. Road transport’s left
an eerie silence on the shunting range
where once was action. Now the signal’s stuck

and in the sheds there’s no more smell of oil
or coffee. Reddish dust has caked the big
black handles and a film of gritty rust’s

upon the rails, a little further down
the old steam engines rusting in the sun,
old power decomposing. Their mere bulk

retains their former pride, the mighty shapes
and sturdy structures unaffected. Time
eventually will prove the stronger, yet

it won’t succeed in driving from my mind
the silent wonder of discarded lines
that this slow journey’s beauty’s left behind.

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bydemure101© 4 comments/ 1540 views/ 0 favorites

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