Gleneagles to Glasgow

Big skies of Scotland, trailing wood smoke,

Fences, fields and tangled copses of wind-bent trees

near grazing clumps of sheep and reedy pond water.

Bleak winter beauty viewed from the train,

Cold hands fumble for the correct change.

 

Weirs of white water tumble past

a Cathedral spire. Dogs and people stroll,

Passengers wait and the neon station clock reads ‘on time.’

Ravines of mossy rock, hidden pools,

slender birch stems and startled flapping birds flash by.

 

The enduring sentinels of the

Wallace Monument, Dumyat and Stirling Bridge

stand guard under a fading baby blue sky.

New white homes breathe side by side

and cars battle the 5:30 rush hour.

 

‘Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.’

Crowds of commuters and a draft around the ankles,

Allotments, brownfields, brown grass and

freshly tilled chocolate earth overlooked by a monkey puzzle tree.

Haloed silver of the rising moon glimpsed between scudding clouds.

 

Petro-chemical plants belch clouds of white steam,

Pylons, pylons, wind turbines, cars.

Bono sings through a passenger’s headphones

‘you’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it.’

Trees and land and homes and farms whistle by.

 

The world is black and blue

broken by glowing orange streetlamps.

You gaze at you through a smudged window pane,

Watch a clip on LGBT history month.

Stop at a signal. Arrive at Glasgow.

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