Letters as Colours

THIS is about my sister blog, Letters as Colours. It is a notebook to see where words can take me. It is a workbook of verse and prose, some literary experiments and the odd photo. Words, letters, colours. Everything has its own hue and each hue generates a feeling. Everyone’s colours are different; we invent and inhabit our own chromoscope.

I hope some of it interests, provokes, cheers or maybe moves you.

Dabbling with words, playing with their shapes, their colours, their sounds. Something I have always liked to do.

Here is a one such offering. Go to Letters as Colours if you would like to read more.

On glimpsing a cemetery from a train

Closer to you my train takes me
Than I have been for lifetimes
Past the herbaceous borders
Of your final resting place
Speeding breathlessly past patchwork rows
Of bright marble, inlaid with angel wings
Or photos of those loved and lost
And a child’s windmill glinting
Caught in a splinter of light
I have one go at this, one spit quick chance
To glimpse, to spot, to see
Somewhere past the Airmen’s Memorial
The obelisk to fallen comrades
The chipped picked brick of the chapel
Are those the stems that someone else once brought you
Stalks now blunt with thoughtlessness
Are those your weeds, a long-left cyclamen
Forget-me-nots and an empty cup
I have one chance, a clutch of seconds
But though I go back and forth a thousand journeys
I cannot tell which one is yours
You are not there in any case
Turned to dust and earth and air
My last goodbyes were long ago
Flown to join your breaths made myriad atoms
And another day, another day
I’d maybe go to kneel beside you
Clear your leaves, the mourning weeds
The memories as sharp as pins
But you aren’t there and I’m not there
And tears confused with rain
Can still be shed
But farther off and safely
Hidden on my speeding train.