OTHER SIDE of the TRACKS

OTHER SIDE of the TRACKS
We descended down below arrivals to the underground,
the wall on the other side of the track was painted matt black.
Like staring into darkness, layered by strange horizontal divisions.
Waiting, sitting on red/black seats divided by black arms.
Was this a warning of dark horizons? Surely not!
No white or yellow line to indicate safe platform edge,
but instead an occasional black tile to warn
of difference, from other black speckled grey paving,
a safe distance from the unseen track,
unless standing on the edge of danger …
In this land of giants in general,
all male and female seemingly over 1.9 metre.
Or so it seemed and all so kind!
From that towering height perhaps they could see
what we lesser mortals miss in our mistaken haste.
When we had boarded the conveyance it continued,
the underground nature of our departure,
from the airport continuing for many minutes,
in a super smooth, super fast electric train,
which then burst into the brightness of a sunny day
to reveal the regimented fields of produce,
with no muddy gateways all bordered
with a network of canals and drainage channels
in order to utilise water to its best advantage
and all this regimentation below sea level,
in contrast to our own haphazard patchwork at home.
Which would you prefer, patchwork quilt or geometry?
No prizes for guessing where we had landed!
Continuing our journey to our ultimate destination,
we crossed the boundary into another country
as smoothly as the movement of our carriage.
We can cross so many borders with consummate ease,
we had the right cards for the cross border controls to please.
Met by our host for a week of meetings and greetings
Friends new and of old living on the other side …
This would be the last time we would meet in this life
all now being of an advanced age …
And soon to be in a completely separate Union,
when we will be the ones on the other side of the tracks!
The return journey brought us back to the same place,
And up to the departures, but the dark stumbling block
Became manifest in the warren to reach and pass
Through passport control which held us all back
And nearly missed the flight back home!
We half ran, half staggered, collapsing at the gate
through the warren, whereupon the darkness disappeared
as the plane itself was suffering a loss of power,
but other delays combined to make us late arriving,
however safe in the arms of other kind and generous souls,
We reached home again, happy again, happy to be home,
On our own side of the tracks!
Hanukah and the Angel.

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About David

Devonian writer
This entry was posted in HAPPINESS, POEMS and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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