Last Working Day!

Living and commuting from the village his choice

on this Friday morning it was hard.

It was the last working day of the week to rise

this morning harder than usual.

Eye lids half-open as he arrived at the station

definitely lacking concentration.

 

Dark and frosty on fresh intoxicating country air

as the birds annoyingly sang.

Getting unwillingly out of the warm taxi interior

and then entered within.

Surprised to see somebody was already in there

but really he didn’t care.

 

Being such an early hour wished he was still in bed

sat down in the waiting room.

Closing his eyes to rest before long had dozed off

waking up with a jolt.

A sound woke him after five minutes had passed

on the far wall a shadow cast!

 

Going on the platform the large clock clicked seven

his train due at seven ten.

Saw movement from the corner of his right eye

reluctantly turned his head.

A uniformed figure went through a solid wall of brick

he began to feel dizzy and sick!

 

Just as the train arrived and was glad to get on board

uncertain of what he had seen!

But could not remember anything like that here before

had he misinterpreted natural images?

Though it happened in seconds found it disturbing

now felt scared about returning!

 

What had he actually seen?

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

 

Published in: on 20/02/2013 at 11:05  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://malctg.wordpress.com/2013/02/20/last-working-day/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: