POETRY
Early Winter Day
Today's an early winter day Feels so close to yesterday My breath is clear now in the air I watch it float and linger there As I walk towards the big school gate I realise we are almost late The front door swings and opens wide She stops to wave then goes inside Parents darting down the path Kids in jackets, scarves and hats Kissing cheeks and scurrying feet Voices rise in the busy street I take a slow walk through the yard Hands in pockets, cold fingers hard I see the church's old cold stone The graves the departed now call home The park is empty save a man Who walks like only an old man can He nods his head when I go by And when I pass I hear him sigh Across the grass as the sun appears The sight of home becomes clear My shoes get stuck amidst the mud Wish I could run just like a child would |
The Train in the Distance
The smell of cut grass in the air A studious bird which makes no sound Stands out of reach of the feline brood That horn I often hear echoes afar A train just passing through Carrying workers and day trippers alike Two metres apart of course Rules must be followed Even by the trolley man Offering butties and teas Pulling the cart down the aisle Careful not to bump into feet and dint shoes I can hear it screech upon the hot metal tracks Sweating faces peering through glass Whizzing past the endless fields And a weird shack in the overgrowth As I sit beside the expanding tree Miles away, unseen by them And neighbours around me speak but say nothing Wasted words instantly forgotten Like a thought I might have myself Vital now, but worthless within the hour Up by the expanding tree With the train in the distance Which is merely passing through |