By Rail Through Somerset

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.

Lucid Gypsy

 

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

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7 thoughts on “By Rail Through Somerset

  1. Thank you so much for indulging me. So many things to delight in this – close noticing and perfect phrases to express it. I love the compression of “awaiting a ride or a jar of mint sauce”, and so many images – “the sizzle of pylons”, “spires crack the mist”, “shoals of angling young men”. And then you finish off with fishing and wishing, which expresses longing and sadness, which seem to me to be the mood of the poem. This is so much more than a prosaic view through the window of the train.

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