I took the train from York,
'12:30 one way please' - the ticket seller nods
and busy's herself with machines.
'Sign here' she pushes through a half biro
Serrated edges broken ridges:
I sign my name and get the train.
We pull out slowly - an inaudible
message is read by the guard
'Leeds at 13:00 next stop Leeds'
as the train gets up speed through the City.
It's not pleasant, travel. People
sit in silent misery
avoiding eyes, too frightened to laugh.
Miles pour by - trees sat by stone walls
Isolated in the bleak pennine hills
squatting against the ferocious wet wind.
Funny how it is, here. Kids are balling
and mums are diffidently patting their cheeks,
youths are sniggering at some empty jibe
and the ticket inspector gets though his job.
All of them huddled trees in the storm.
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2 comments:
I really enjoyed this. All of it. It was wonderful.
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