14 Apr

For napowrimo day 11

Flying through the English countryside
In a metal tube on rails of steel
Don’t get me started about steel
Reserved tickets flap above empty seats
Is that the air-con or a wind tunnel effect
Caused by open doors?

It’s too hot in here
The sweat forms droplets in the small of my back
And thrills briefly, wetly, trickling down my back
The seat is soft, yet uncomfortable
I cannot explain why

It’s quieter than you’d think
Not much hubbub or clickety clack
I really miss the clickety clack
Modern life’s too quiet

The social tension’s lifted as
The train announcer makes us laugh
It’s always good to laugh

I know where we’re going
I don’t know where I’m going

I just know I’ve run away


3 Responses to “Whoosh”

  1. paula graham April 14, 2016 at 7:11 pm #

    Yea, there is something so comforting about the clickety clack…lovely poem.

  2. Karina Pinella April 15, 2016 at 12:06 am #

    Hooey, that went over my head. But, I’ll be sure to keep better track next time you come back.

    • BRH April 15, 2016 at 12:34 pm #

      Ha ha!

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