Metamorphosis (ode to trains)

Blue seats are bejewelled

with crisps,

old gum,


the heart beat of punk music

overflowing from plastic pearls

and a symphony of mouthfuls as sandwiches

are consumed, breadcrumbs unravelling

whilst green washes windows

and cotton bud sheep

trim crayon fields,

until houses

spill onto the countryside:

perfect habitats:

trampolines, flower patches and barbeques

still sizzling with memories

of summer,

as the platform, coated

with reunion, appears

and my ticket is engulfed for the last time.