Robin Brumby
There
There, even modern samurai will ride
The Bullet train, so smooth, so quick, on time.
Beyond reflected carriages that glide
At one with this, rhythm in step with rhyme.
Unseen in darkness Fujiyama reigns
As guardian of the night and trains.
Witness that image on her case and book
Of the one mountain meaning much, so much
To her, schoolgirl demure, who will not look
At me, all her upbringing being such
That would be forward; while I do not dare
To be so crass a gaijin as to stare.
But in the window from reflections trace
The souvenir I bring home from this trip -
That tartan uniform, her intent face.
That text inscrutable. Companionship?
I murmur "sayonara" when I leave
To her reflection, think that I perceive
The merest hint of what might be a smile
Responding to me from protective glass,
Or not, or concentration on her file
And neatly written notes, for she must pass
The next examination. I'll not be there,
This journey being all I'll have to share,
And now the moment when I leave the train.
Some later station sees her stepping down,
Tap-tapping home to study once again.
And that is that. Here in my native town,
Reflections, haiku, on my mind, I write:
"Train passing, two lives scattered by its flight."
The Bullet train, so smooth, so quick, on time.
Beyond reflected carriages that glide
At one with this, rhythm in step with rhyme.
Unseen in darkness Fujiyama reigns
As guardian of the night and trains.
Witness that image on her case and book
Of the one mountain meaning much, so much
To her, schoolgirl demure, who will not look
At me, all her upbringing being such
That would be forward; while I do not dare
To be so crass a gaijin as to stare.
But in the window from reflections trace
The souvenir I bring home from this trip -
That tartan uniform, her intent face.
That text inscrutable. Companionship?
I murmur "sayonara" when I leave
To her reflection, think that I perceive
The merest hint of what might be a smile
Responding to me from protective glass,
Or not, or concentration on her file
And neatly written notes, for she must pass
The next examination. I'll not be there,
This journey being all I'll have to share,
And now the moment when I leave the train.
Some later station sees her stepping down,
Tap-tapping home to study once again.
And that is that. Here in my native town,
Reflections, haiku, on my mind, I write:
"Train passing, two lives scattered by its flight."
Page(s) 4
magazine list
- Features
- zines
- 10th Muse
- 14
- Acumen
- Agenda
- Ambit
- Angel Exhaust
- ARTEMISpoetry
- Atlas
- Blithe Spirit
- Borderlines
- Brando's hat
- Brittle Star
- Candelabrum
- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
- Coffee House, The
- Dream Catcher
- Equinox
- Erbacce
- Fabric
- Fire
- Floating Bear, The
- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
- Grosseteste Review
- Homeless Diamonds
- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
- London Magazine, The
- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
- Moodswing
- Neon Highway
- New Welsh Review
- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
- Oxford Poetry
- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
- Poetry Scotland
- Poetry Wales
- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
- Rain Dog
- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The