Seeing Mum Again Poem by Ian Bowen

I was the only one
to have alighted from
the punctual 11.16;
in fact,
I believe I was the only passenger
on the half-hour journey
to Elysian Fields.

The deserted platform railings
were dripping with the pink
of wild sweet peas.
The temperature perfect,
and through the shroud
of shimmering heat, I saw you waiting,
gently waving, dressed
in a robe of brilliant white.

I remembered your warmth
as we hugged and kissed,
recalled our hand in hand walks
to the village school and home.
Before you caught the 10.46…

and never came back again.