Brian Wake Poems
|2.||I Never Did Think||6/12/2013|
|5.||Leading The Blind||6/12/2013|
|11.||Clutching At Straw||6/12/2013|
|13.||Lazarus Meets The Press||6/12/2013|
|15.||Signs Of Spring||6/12/2013|
At thirteen forty five our train begins to move, and, late
to board, what seats remain face not toward but from.
I shuffle off and fold my overcoat and sit, do battle
with a newspaper to find a decent page and settle down
Behind me, music hisses from a faulty earphone. A child
describes the passing fields; a city child surprised by space
and countryside, surprised by, look mum, cows and sheep.
Across the aisle a blue-haired lady with an open book
is fast asleep.
From where I sit, my awkward view is of the places
we have travelled ...
Hiding from me at bedtime, my daughter
sneezes and giggles from inside the wardrobe.
I wonder where she is, I act. Pretending
not to see her four small fingers clutching
the door but, fearing the dark far more
than she does me, she surrenders. I gasp
in mock surprise. Soon she will be sleeping.
In Germany once