569 - Banbury Station

the wind is an ocean where those stalks
swing about beside the tracks windwise
and windward. who would have thought unwalked
gravel so freshly laid - could be revised

unto the sidings’ camposanto
shining white and empty by the day -
gravelights by night. each memento
of the Ediacaran Sea stays

in its place - behaves as it then learned
to do on the rebound. trains are currents
too - to which the plants adjust as they churn
in the wake - recompose from the torrent

of a heavy freight. they flower in the dust
as they did at sea - even dock with rust.

Woodford Halse
29 August 2021
Banbury Station
27 August 2021