Tuesday afternoon 20 September 2005
EK 347 KUL/ DXB 0200 EK 039 DXB/BHX 0750
Ah, touching down, berthing, Birmingham International Airport
at long last, to working men shirt warm weather,
watching the runway grass blow.
I get to a blurring New Street, change, take
the packed, though not for long, Marches train,
platform baggage in tow,
to the university, the first point of call; here
a group of scrummaging foreign students got off in
a tangle of good-natured care,
then Malvern, Worcester, the train thinning now,
in Hereford without loss of time,
in relaxing afternoon air,
the empty buildings on the run in,
the quiet platform, where school uniform wait
in patient way for the Leominster train to poach
them home. I trek in weary way through
the place, wondering, wandering in time;
by the waiting coach,
with me, teenage students going back,
an old, half-daft I love talking rural chap,
the cigarette captain, at rest in the cab, with coke;
the journey with distance, fewer people
to watch rough Herefordshire pour
in current of gazing cow, rich earth, thick oak;
on the final run in to the Mardy,
a short-haul bag-hoist walk,
the entry border a bouquet of hue;
Ah, touching down, berthing, Birmingham International Airport
at long last, to working men shirt warm weather,
watching the runway grass blow.
I get to a blurring New Street, change, take
the packed, though not for long, Marches train,
platform baggage in tow,
to the university, the first point of call; here
a group of scrummaging foreign students got off in
a tangle of good-natured care,
then Malvern, Worcester, the train thinning now,
in Hereford without loss of time,
in relaxing afternoon air,
the empty buildings on the run in,
the quiet platform, where school uniform wait
in patient way for the Leominster train to poach
them home. I trek in weary way through
the place, wondering, wandering in time;
by the waiting coach,
with me, teenage students going back,
an old, half-daft I love talking rural chap,
the cigarette captain, at rest in the cab, with coke;
the journey with distance, fewer people
to watch rough Herefordshire pour
in current of gazing cow, rich earth, thick oak;
on the final run in to the Mardy,
a short-haul bag-hoist walk,
the entry border a bouquet of hue;
hugging the shower in time,
a warm dinner of chicken, a beer,
thinking back there to my two…
a warm dinner of chicken, a beer,
thinking back there to my two…
