899

7.28

The fog is clearing over Warrior Square

As the seven-twenty-eight slides into view,

On time today; a restless pair

Of blackbirds, undeterred, peck at the few

Damp twigs scattered on the down-side bank.

The train is silent until Robertsbridge

Where school-boys with their mobile phones and lank

Hair call out to each other across the carriage

But only to go as far as Tonbridge Wells

Whence peace returns right through to Canon Street,

With nothing save announcements or the swell

Of distant conversations to compete.

          Oh that every journey were this calm

          Oozing contemplation's subtle balm.

Brian Hick February 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 15.2.23