The Living Railway. Poem by David Wood

Brunel lives!
His railway opposite my house.
Big square pennant sandstone bricks
Forming a high wall where cats hunt
Timid mice, has been tested by
Time.

Cold muted rumbles grow louder
Screeching announces their
Imminent arrival and slow departure.
Their calling card an
Unwelcome alarm call at
02: 00,03: 00 and again at 04: 00.

Imposing, as an unwelcome guest
Who outstays their welcome, their
Loud latent intent.

Noisy engines followed by endless
Number of wagons carrying heavy
Tonnage loaded by unknown faces
Wearing yellow jackets and hard hats,
Unloaded at their destination
By an equally dressed morning shift.

Daytime passenger coaches
Take faces from here to there.
Diesel engines working up speed
Giving their Doppler sound as
They come and then go with
Steady speed making the ground shake.

Day or night the railway never sleeps.