ran the line past our house
ran this way or, from
this way south.
At that time it was simply the best, and easiest
of transport for the return journey after a full day out,
a bus having taken us
to our returning station from the centre
At the railway station
we sometimes had to wait for the overnighter,
the one which travelled the length of the island
and took priority on the main track;
stopped for sandwiches and coffee,
and some people bought pillows
while we watched on
slipping from the platform on the other side
of the building
and then back to our train
backed up on the siding
sometimes until nine in the evening
for our slow train to move on.
That’s what they called them – slow trains,
but we were used to that in the country and
that was a long time ago.
When the overnighter had gone
we quickly clambered on
to our few carriages
and all the brakes were off
as the train driver got up steam. A few miles
down the line, his now sluggish and sleepy passengers
finally at their destination. Yeah, there
was our house
over the bridge
down the road a block or two
just near a fence where another train
was again passing through
before we even reached our backdoor.
Those were the days
when we had no option
but to take
the slow train home.
Benita H. Kape © 6.4.2018