A walk in the night

I couldn’t sleep last night These times had me feeling not right There were images swirling round And try as I might I couldn’t shake being down So I walked around the town Finding no solace in what I found Stepping in to the old railway station I wandered the platform contemplating no explanation There had been a redness to the sky From the suns intense bombardment high So I looked down the railway line And I saw a steam engine with its light on shine At first I thought it was a trick in my hearing But as it journeyed closer I realised it was silent not endearing So fascinated I watched it as it pulled into the station Still silent it stopped with a final steam exaltation There was only one passenger present Who stepped off the train not hesitant But stranger still he was in uniform Khaki serge with slouch hat left side turned up worn And he walked straight past me In spritely steps with a swagger you see Into the station waiting room Standing at a plaque on the wall in the gloom I followed him in and read the plaque there In remembrance of a local lost in the Great War snare He disappeared as I approached him not to scare Looking around I pondered this night’s fare. © Paul Warren Poetry