Our train took
what seemed like forever
to leave behind
the ad-plastered
smoke-stained downtown
that was January
and navigate
at not much more
than a slow trot –
certainly nowhere near
a gallop –
the endless back gardens
and washing lines
of February
By the first
gloomy fields
of early March
we’d picked up speed
at last, and now
cheerful chatter
opened beer cans
balanced on
seat-back trays
we’re going full out
wheels clattering
on steel tracks
the train rocking
from side to side
really whizzing along
the white trackside blossom
of mid April
just a blur
outside the window
up front, the driver
getting ready to brake
to slow us down
for our first
scheduled stop –
2019’s late Easter –
the grimy city behind us
all but forgotten
© Daniel Stephens, 2019
