Category: Poetry

  • 25137 and 25127 Await Their Fate *** A pawl of smoke A funereal shroud For those who once Worked hard and proud No more passengers…

  • The Last Bus Home Sitting… Eyes staring down the lights Of Passing northbound cars Left the bar Too late again Now I wait with bated…

  • The Morning Tube   Queuing at the ticket office While eternity passes by Then running through the barriers Under the ticket collector’s baleful eye, The…