The Signalman!

He never found out what happened that night! The Foureyed Poet.

The Foureyed Poet

The signalman felt uneasy as he started his shift

it was an autumn evening.

Light was fading as he walked up the steps

and a feeling of coldness.

Everything was the same looking around

his own breathing the only sound.

Though it was his fifteenth year on the job

he enjoyed what he was doing.

There had been a few unexplained incidents

putting it down to boredom.

But no rational thinking would make sense

of the coming events.

After watching the eight twenty express pass

settled down for a cup of tea.

The phone connecting the boxes rang shrilly

usually meaning a problem.

Answering to check what was wrong no reply

he did wonder why?

The time period was the early fifties no mobiles

or any electronic equipment.

In an isolated spot some way from any contact

only reached by a narrow path.

He liked the peace and quiet here being…

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Published in: on 16/12/2014 at 06:37  Leave a Comment  

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