Poem — Nelson Wattie

In a Railway Carriage

 

Our train is slowly sliding

Toward a tunnel. Damn!

What was that story?

Fading now inside our memory channels?

Twenty-nine men dead;

You can’t dig gas:

Just let it flush its way

Or bust and burn.

The tunnel opening – is it

High enough, and wide?

What of the other at the other end?

Look out the window, love,

Those trees will be the last we …

 

Nelson Wattie

 

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