All along the railway, the landscape’s studded
with beechwoods, earthworks and tracks,
serenaded by rocking clickety-clacks,
and accompanied by clouds that scudded
in from the east on a bitter weeping wind.
Through dusty, grease-smeared glass,
sidings sport orchards as we pass,
sprouted from cores tossed from train windows:
a magical hoard of apples glows,
embers in the charcoal of twilight shadows.
Kim M. Russell, 2018
A poem for Poets United Poetry Pantry