#Poem To the Airport

On this edge-of-town railway platform
the sky fights back
and picks the outline of roofs –
stepped, and a welcome curve.

It’s shaded and dull,
home for half-an-hour,
a perforated metal bench,
a sofa in front of the telly.
The kids run around shouting –
not my kids.

We see four trains clank in,
fill up with beach-folk destined for Barry Island,
and then roll out.

Then ours arrives
but there’s two boys
who tell the conductor
they want to go to the island,
and he won’t tell them,
but I do,
that they’ve got to change trains,
and they don’t believe me
so I raise my voice a little,
but then two other passengers say the same
and off they get.
I don’t expect a thank you,
don’t get one.


One thought on “#Poem To the Airport

  1. Pingback: #Poem To the Airport | Ash2

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