Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Travelling Backwards

by Brian Wake

At thirteen forty five our train begins to move, and, late
to board, what seats remain face not toward but from.
I fold my overcoat and sit, do battle with a newspaper
to find a decent page and settle down to read.

Behind me, music hisses from a faulty earphone. A child
describes the passing fields; a city child surprised by space
and countryside, surprised by, look mum, cows and sheep.
Across the aisle a blue-haired lady with an open book
is fast asleep.

From where I sit, my awkward view is of the places
we have travelled through. What views await us are, as yet,
unknown, the present blurred, the past quite clear. I travel
backwards in a crowded train.

I sit with some who seem to travel backwards all their lives;
they sit asleep or read with children counting sheep and cows.
For them and me, perhaps

No comments:

Post a Comment