One of those (part 2)

Smarting rain on face.

The train sounds collapsing all around

shake, ground reflecting grey light

and train tracks that have held so many journeys

now are rendered meaningless.

 

Disappointment in those deep eyes:

depths I never accepted

and hurt I never realised

until it was mine. Shaded Wintery ghosts

prick chill into my hands;

 

Summer grass stains washed out so long ago

are newborn stems underfoot

where I duck my head

when I walk past the willow tree

and crunch cool snow

 

between heavy pleats in my boots.