Thoughts on Public Transport

 

 

Pewsey Hills

mist of Vale rising

unclothing hills of ivory

revealing glory

 

Wroughton

Over

Wrought

On

The

Bus

 

The Train Cuckoo

In the Reserved seats,

elsewhere by fate diverted,

invisible men;

weather, lover’s bed or grave?

What cares the cuckoo for why?

by Gail