share


Mainline Rail

Back-to-backs, some of the last,

and always just below the view

 

a sunken tide of regular sound

west to the river, south to elsewhere,

 

and sometimes we travel together

as I slink into their sleep whilst I sleep,

 

settle beside a mother with a child

coiled in her lap, click-clacking

 

into darkness, coming heavy,

pushing at the edges of the carriage.

 

And sometimes the track returns us

on the late train to the end of my bed

 

luggage in one hand, my jumper in another

until they fling themselves

 

out of the open window,

 

flit though the ivy, the nettles and wire

to meet the fast train home,

 

waking in a stuffy carriage,

an image of my room in their eye,

 

the tone of the city in their ear,

in the thrust of the train’s rush

 

towards the sea and out of here…

 


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

 is the author of Andraste’s Hair (2007) and Eliza and the Bear (2009). She lives in Liverpool. www.eleanorrees.info

READ NEXT

feature

August 2013

The Ghosts of Place

Dylan Trigg

feature

August 2013

 ‘So I turned around for an instant to look at what my field of vision onto the sea had...

poetry

January 2014

Tuesday Will Be War

Jáchym Topol

TR. Alex Zucker

poetry

January 2014

Jáchym Topol (b. 1962), like most Czech authors of his generation, wrote poetry for years before turning to prose....

feature

October 2011

The White Review No.3 Editorial

The Editors

feature

October 2011

In the course of putting three issues of The White Review together, the editors have been presented with the...