Train to Nowhere
We got on trains going nowherejust for the sheer hell of it all,
threw coins to buskers who
kept us entertained as walking
through windy tunnels passing
men in fingerless mittens
clutching cups of coffee,
the heat vapour and smoke
billowing like a reminder
when steam was the only
method of locomotion.
We travelled to places
where signs told their names
but we never alighted
as fighting hoards surged
and boarded, their plight
showing in the weary faces,
tired commuters going
somewhere, anywhere
just for the sake of a
few hard earned moans
when the hire purchase
became a fact and due.
At night the lights
would show green faces
in the flourescent beams as
bags clenched between knees
and fractious children
moaned and beat a drum
of hum and sigh from
prematurely exhausted mothers.
We sat and people watched
grew stories in our heads;
listened to announcements
of places passing through.
Poetry by Elle
Read 632 times
Written on 2007-10-31 at 09:53
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