‘Buy my perfume – BOSS – boss?’
asks a dapper at the station
- graffiti hits on every wall
(graffiti reaching carriage windows)
and desolate, slate-grey, the journey
out from the city, smoke hard as nails
until the ground rises and fields
heave in view and the river we follow
twinkles and sparkles, turns with our train,
and the mist in the valley
climbs to the hills with a first glimpse of snow
and the far distant mountains flume out a welcome,
tinkle my heartstrings in hopefulness,
amber and russet and black and then go.
So very beautiful could stem only from so very real. Thank you. Wayne.
ReplyDeleteTo me a good poem is one that lets me see clearly what the poet is writing about. This is a beautiful poem John.
ReplyDeletePeace,
Jim McGrath
Another wonderful poem. I love how it flows from graffiti, "smoke hard as nails" (incredible phrase) to "twinkles and sparkles." Beautiful and so much hope.
ReplyDeleteElaine Sangiolo
@inkdipped
What a beautiful poem. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteLisa
Oh this is beautiful and I know this journey very well ... have done it, through the mountains and forest of Czech Republic and through the rustic flat fields of Slovakia and the flat greyness of Bratislava and the kitsch of selling you BOSS in unlikely places ...
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