2 October 2014
Today is National Poetry day.
I’ve always enjoyed “Night Mail” by W. H. Auden and sometimes write in the same rhythm, it begs to be read out loud.
This journey is on a local train so the speed is never very fast and, from start to stop, only takes one minute.
But who is driving the train, and where are the passengers?
Look around the carriages. Who’s there?
Nobody left in Paddington Green
nobody heard and nobody seen
nobody heard ’cause nobody spoke
nobody left in Hanley or Stoke
nobody angry, nobody sad
nobody saintly, nobody bad
nobody left to tell us the tale
nobody knows what caused it to fail
nobody young and nobody old
nobody hot and nobody cold
nobody live and nobody dead
nobody left to take to your bed
nobody here to argue or share
nobody even to stand and stare
nobody left and nobody right
nobody here to fight the good fight
nobody breathing, no one to kiss
nobody leaving, no one to miss
nobody told us, nobody knew
nobody there to tell what to do
nobody bothers, no one to care
nobody knows ’cause no one is there