The Railway Halt Of Last Resort Poem by Stephen Brian Brady

from his carriage on the track
spunaway into the stars
he sees the words that have escaped
from the Station 'Tea-Room'
and through the open window
he calls them in

it is a Railway-Halt of last resort
and even when the travellers heard
the distant engine scream
they seemed to have no regrets
fixing their curved gaze
into the chromium-plated glaze
through the tea-urns steam

now from his gilded- cage
as birds about to sing
he re-arranges words
and how the others
though bedraggled
shuffle into line
all they need is meaning
as they intertwine