All said and done,
You are your mother’s daughter
As I a father’s son.
A drink to salve a swollen liver
Sick with sentiment and guilt.
Converse in stifled hushed tones
Clear condensation from the windowpane,
For tears, for rain on smeared glass
We travel second class by train
From the big grey city.

Passengers chatting loud
Pass under cloud shrouded mountains
Passing over swollen rivers,
Thick with sediment and silt.
Picturesque villages.
Washing hanging wet on the line.
We share wine.
Ah mores the pity (or less),
We alight into a light breeze,
Holding hands,
Forgiveness.
It rains and the sun shines down
Through rainbows and summer trees
Fly’s buzz, birds sing,
The sweet scent of flora, ferns
and everything is fine.
Everything is fine.
Caledonian pine.