Ruth Walters (London, U.K.)

The train now standing at platform 2 is empty now,
its windows, still fogged, by smut and smog
that lapped its sides for the time of its reign.

Faded upholstery on imprinted seats hold ghosts now,
those travelers of yesteryear;
they're essence fills the very air we breathe.

Now the train goes nowhere but sits, silently,
on a mocked up platform at York Museum
to amuse tourists with eager, bright eyed, faces.

It holds tightly to its memories
somehow wanting to share all it has seen –
all it has witnessed.

A cheerful driver with strong, tough hands
no longer steers its mighty coaches
but presence is ever sensed by all that walk _

through the 10.15……

stopping at quaint villages
seaside towns, lovers trysts,
new homes and all stations to destiny.