Rubbish among the tracks,
Beneath the trees,
Declares the north.
Grey sky, long terraces,
Vapour from a vent,
Crooked black branches
Accrington brick - .
A voice beside us in the carriage -
I speak all’t dialects in Manchester.
Where d’you come from love?
Wigan? allus a joke.
Been all over’t’ world miself,
Don’t care where I live,
Speak all the languages.
All words in ION are French,
Did you know that?
StatION, suspensION,
Right word is dampers,
Duh du du du...
Don’t hear it now,
Rails is welded.
(Not a word and she’s happy!)
Stockport has the longest
Viaduct int’ world.
I helped build it. No
Sorry, my dad did.
Lovely place Stockport,
I backed a horse, Nero.
Nero fiddled while Rome burned.
This one didn’t,
Put £50 evens,
Won a hundred,
Want my address?
A 368 bus goes right to ’t’ door.
Goodbye darling. S’bin
A right good conversation.
Signs of spring,
The daffodils are out,
Beauty, even here,
Rainbows in an oil stain
On a metalled road,
Our eye carries us through
The hanging damp,
To potential dew.
©Terry Hodgson2020
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