Preston Station Poem by Michael Gary Davis

From my seat I see the ramp
That would walk me to my past.
Imagined footsteps mark the paths
Pinned in place by memories like spires
Pointing to a house now gone,
Its bricks crumbed to dust.

Behind closed eyes forgotten faces
Recall the dreams betrayed
When Ellerslie held the pain
Through all the fleeting years
When the bowler took the trick
In the final licking of the sun.

And through the trees the tower
And the hollow that holds his bones.