How is it that in this yet other house far from the old train lines wheels on track still echo through the windows and rumble through my mind?
Tag: trains
The Tree That Felt Disquiet.
So the magpie swept up to his high branch, wings buffeted by the warm summer gusts. His tree grew old and tall at the top of the cutting, at its very edge, where the little cliff of scraggly bushes dropped suddenly down to the four sets of tracks and the log yard. It was a pale, silvery gum, straight-trunked with few branches, each one sturdy and clustered with large, long, thin leaves that shifted in colour from apple green in youth to faded bottle in middle-age and to a palette of spotted purples and greys as they grew ready to fall. Along with its dry leaves, it dropped unusually large gumnuts that, falling from a great height, cracked and spilled seeds that went scuttling over the pavement. The magpie had seen many trains pass on the tracks below him, but the gumtree in its long lifetime had seen many more. The tree had heard many voices, and wondered many things. Chief among its thoughts at that moment was an attempt to comfortably explain the growing nagging sensation it felt of some mounting, rumbling energy in the air. Had the world become faster, these trains more frequent, or was it the tree that had slowed?
Devices.
wait
a train passes
quietly whistles
whispers past
wait
in silence latent
another train passes
faster
wait
in mounting silence
with its beauty
latent
silent
gone
wait
in stillness
with its silent beauty potent
fragrant stillness
idly still
wait
and another train passes
and silence once broken
creaks achingly
shrieks
the ugly shriek of morning cockatoos
strewing seeds from the gum-tops
fretfully
shrieking
swooping wide white wings low over streets
with anxious shrieking
and shaking
as another train passes
rumbles
and another train
grumbles
sweeping silver streak
shrieking
creaking on the tracks
rumbles underground
the city groans
achingly
shrieks
the city groans
anxiously
speaks
in silent ugly words
scattered like seed by the morning cockatoos
Trains of Thought.
as another train passes outside
its rumbling vibrates the floor
pouring its energy
into my feet
into my spine
whispers
the city breathes
as another train passes outside
pouring the sorrowful
onto the streets
rumbles
pouring its energy
into my feet
into my spine
and in the city’s breathless silence
the craw of a crow
the ugly morning shriek of cockatoos
soaring
from the tall gums that line the tracks
mast and sails (the shops are ships)
as another train passes outside
whispers
into my feet
into my spine
as another train passes outside
echoes long down the cutting
carries ghosts of memory
flitting past
past
past
as another train passes outside
and thoughts are scattered
like wildflower seeds
and another train passes
diffused
like the broken ripple of water
after a ship has passed through
glinting in the sunlight
as another train passes outside
and light rain-drops titter at the windows
chuckling at the tipsy-pink rose glass
and the rain falls more steadily now
drenching
grows louder
not patter but pour
and a train passes
muffled
whispers
the city weeps
sweeps the dirt from its gutters
runs rivers
ripples down the rose-glass window panes
and a train passes
rumbles
and groans
the city grumbles
and shrieks the ugly shriek of morning cockatoos
and another train passes
whispers
the city breathes
once lulled
now lush
the rain sweeps across the rooftops
runs rivers
down the drain-pipes
tips tips tips
drips
down the chimney-pots
where there’s no wood-smoke
on a wednesday
Magical: Day One 