Mauldeth Road: a poem by Steve Hunt

3 September 2017 // Poetry

The train stopped And lulled, momentarily By foreign voices whose origin I could not fathom I slipped into a daydream When, awoken by that realisation - an awareness of time The train remained still - I looked for a sign - Mauldeth Road Then saw the erratic, bobbing head of a magpie And felt the inevitable curse And thought of Andrea at the hospice And Mam, she hates them... hated them Especially near the end when they gathered on the roof Across the road as if waiting - expectant The voices fell silent The bird was gone I looked for him - I'd already assigned him a male sex Then thought it odd how we ascribe malevolence to animals And smiled when he emerged and skipped Comically Across The Path Then stopped at a wall And I looked up and saw the tag - ‘TOMB’ The voices resumed The train moved on

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Steve Hunt’s website

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