From worry to worry his tired mind grinds on:
Each night-stop shows the wraith-lights winking, fears
Fumbling at the catch, and fog seeping in
Between the crevices of old despairs
Supposedly blocked up by time. And one
Passenger only breathes these carboned airs:
Alone he travels on a winter train,
Shunting past ruined mines and frozen weirs -
A lifetime gone away. The ticket which
He clutches, grimed with grief, has it expired?
Perhaps this is the last stop and the heart fails.
Nothing is certain as these flickerings reach
Around the soul. ‘All change here!’ and his tired
Mind does so. On the next train sleep heals.