Thursday, 6 August 2015

Haunted By Eastleigh

Eastleigh train depot,

Abandoned and brown.

Home to old carriages with

Names like Sea Urchin

Printed on their stomachs

In faded yellow  paint.

Gardens grow in the sleepers,

For they have slept for too long;

And then we pass

Through Botley

With its fern leaves and

Blackberry trees

And the old railroad

Which runs like a ghost

Alongside our train window. 
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