Catriona Yule
© Catriona Yule 2010
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Night Train
Catriona Yule
Snaking along the coastline;
carriages rattling,
windows fluorescent souls:
silent bulbs of consciousness,
I imagine myself: a skin
tight ladder throwing my arms
out to the train.
Stretching them taut;
needles of spindly grass
under my skin,
hotness of dry earth
skiffling my knees.
I reach and reach,
stream through a window.
I enter the carriage
looking for souls, a soul.
A woman murmurs to herself or to
the vacant seat next to her,
or to the laptop
on the fliptable in front.
I sit down beside her
and start to type.
Published in
Journeys, 2009
(Lemon Tree Writers)
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