Train from St. Erth

I’m leaving - in the rain.
And, staring out my spattered window,
at patchwork soil and meadow
I wonder if I’ll return again.
I’m leaving – in the rain.

In front of me a boy cries out
- unintelligible are his words
startling me, like a flurry of birds.
His confusion mirrors my inner doubt
and I want to crumble and join the shout.

I’m leaving – on the rain.
A perfect ending, poetic and bleak
as the ghosts that danced
in my had all week…
But wait – here’s the sun again!
I’m leaving – So where’s the rain?

- Cornwall, 2000