Mountain Train Poems


Four short poems about the narrow / meter gauge railway. The memories of mountain railways in the quint towns of the Himalayas. .

The sky was stained with the blue of berries

on that peppery winter noon,

when we sat on that small wooden bench,

outside the teashop overlooking the valley, 

watching the toy train slowly trundle past 

the pines, conifers, and flaming rhododendrons,

the hot masala chai melts all our inner strife

in a fragrant rhapsody for the time being.

2

The narrow gauge waits among the shadows

and lattices of light like a poem uncoiling

into oblivion, spell bound.

In the soundlessness of the falling snow

I listen for a heartbeat no longer there,

the silence too strong for me,

just like the tea from the old teashop. 

3

The edge of the rain slices the ruddy sun 

with delicate knife like precision,

and turns one side of the valley grey,

on the sunlit side the shivering green

tries to cling to the fading light,

the wind snores, shifts, snarls,

 rain filled clouds clamber up 

towards the mountain peaks,

in the valley below, a lone train crawls through 

the dappled grey whistling its old song. 

4

A wayward brushstroke, 

on a spring-like pallet, 

the little mountain train,

is homeward; 

along the wandering waters,

Past purple Jacarandas,

into the  valley of yellow and gold,

and then you see a little town,

pastel painted,

tumbling down the forested hill,

there and gone again,

losing its way 

in the mountain’s mist 

and the steam from my tea. 

 

 

Fist Published in Knot, a biannual web based magazine published by Kristen Scott from Marmaris, Turkiye .

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Mountain Train Poems

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s