When Meg posted her intentional noticings on a train journey to Poznan, I told her about my scribbles on a train. Being Meg of course she wanted to read it, so I’m re-blogging this post from 2011.
country gulls flushed by the 10.53
arrow from fields with frosty periphery
like yuletide tinsel under threadbare trees
lamb filled ewes felted and jacketed
join blanketed ponies to nibble on nothing
awaiting a ride or a jar of mint sauce
depart the Levels undulating uphill
where railway huts stand derelict lonesome
the sizzle of pylons shoot towards ozone
old man’s beard helplessly clings to dense hide
of hedge where Roe stags lurk in dank
acres furrowed and ready for spring
spires crack the mist near burst banks
where Saturday shoals of angling young men
stand fishing
and wishing
Lucid Gypsy 