Oliver Comins

 

 
Return Journey

So here we are, dozing on a train
which flounders along, travelling
towards a place we call home.
We know the tide will have turned
before we reach our destination.

The carriage shimmers as it passes
over these tiny, necessary gaps
between rails and brute steel wheels:
such a random choir, sitting here and
listening to deep sprung hydraulics.

How does this work?  A long carriage
vibrating magnificently as it races past
a whole countryside of ploughed fields
and irregular pastures, its soft-seated
upholstery, grey and purple branding.

 

 

 

Oliver Comins lives and works in West London.  Early work collected in a Mandeville Press pamphlet and Anvil New Poets Two.  More recently, poems have appeared in various magazines including The Echo Room, The Rialto, Warwick Review and Yellow Nib.

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