I grew up walking railway lines, Long forgotten Deliberately so, Packed under layers of mud, Hardened by the footfall Of closer ghosts Bodies in carriages, Sailing back to blood Back to soil The hands that formed us The lands before us, Of Giants and seafoam Of stranger behaviour, Spade and saviour, A speckled sonder, Pushed by the coal Carried under skin- The new house shakes. Trembles by the rumbling Lumbering creature, The sun stretching its shadow It ambles across Behind picketed gardens, Crawling the ladders I look from the window, Notice brown, crisp ivy Clinging to red brick I think, “It must look beautiful in summer” And yet, it's August already I sit, Bones slumped in my seat, The train does not rock me gently, More so shudders me to sleep