Our trim beauteous train carriage
glides through the ochre cuttings of Heidelberg,
another sunny October morning. Eyes turn momentarily from ‘Journey to the End
of the Night’ or the phone screen message home or makeup time in the tiny oval
mirror or waking-up absentmindedness to sudden ochre peripherals of rock dirt
gravel striated in sloping walls racing past train windows. Millennia old
floodlines and upheavals are ochre hardness, quartz dullness, speckled white
stone. Millennia, as if the word were meaningful like our thoughts. But then we
emerge again, private peak-hour journeyers, into the greens and blues of the
Eaglemont embankment.
No comments:
Post a Comment