we set off at dawn.
A slow start, accelerate
down tracks, rumbling
silver rails. A crimson sun rises
East - skimming trees -
Midlands, into Birmingham.
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.
This is how we travel – backwards,
looking out into where we’ve been:
an engine behind
and a caravan of multiple eyes
with a clear view of the back of our head,
pulling. We look away;focused, unaware