Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
john-lindsayPoems
After eleven Walking home A days heat slackening Suburbia lies prone and flat Sound carries at night Is felt before seen Across and into the night The train pushes It drags echoes from trees, parks, estates Hammers over bridges, shuddering rails Inevitable, Unstoppable Laden with the dark The containers They count on They pass , tolling toward the witching hour Still walking home Its getting late
0
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
CONTAINMENT
After eleven Walking home A days heat slackening Suburbia lies prone and flat Sound carries at night Is felt before seen Across and into the night The train pushes It drags echoes from trees, parks, estates Hammers over bridges, shuddering rails Inevitable, Unstoppable Laden with the dark The containers They count on They pass , tolling toward the witching hour Still walking home Its getting late
Heavy goods trains are something I regularly see passing through the suburbs of Manchester by night.... I had the thought the the train might also be a metaphor for death..! Sorry to sound so morbid...Im not really!!!
Written by
john-lindsay
manchester
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem