Mind the Gap

Russet pipes and rustflower phantom
brushes, still here –
Swiped footprints on sooty tiles.
Dark enamel pipework, shrouded
After still years
Measured out in lack of use.

A whistle blows.


This place was untouched
By lunching masses citybound
Oblivious; tiny little mouse
Sitting watching, little snipe,
I saw him underneath a pipe
Scrabbling some filth in vain.

A whistle blows.


Still untouched, and must have been
For years, unexamined
By hands but those tiny pink
Claws, forever raking at the tiles,
Jawclenching scratch
Of steel wheels on the line.


About mudwords

Please feel free to point and laugh.
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10 Responses to Mind the Gap

  1. da konvict says:


    nice mahn..
    d above is my url..
    do visit !

  2. Jingle says:

    u got some special talent here…
    love the playfulness in the central line.

  3. buttercup600 says:

    How clever are you….Everywhere the roar the rush of feet and shoes then silence….BRILLIANT!!! Your light shines so much in your poetry. I loved it x

    • mudwords says:

      Thanks! This poem is intended as a partner to Railway Robin, which you can read on here if you don’t mind digging around for it. I use the Underground a lot πŸ™‚

  4. Kavita says:

    Whoa!!! This was almost creepy!!!
    “By hands but those tiny pink
    Claws, forever raking at the tiles,” — this reminded me of the horrible sound of chalk on slate!!! uggghhhhh … gave me goosebumps…
    The poem made me think of railways lines and platforms.. the sudden rush, the movements, the mice, and then … SILENCE!!! The analogy is excellent!

  5. Jingle says:

    Our poetry potluck is NOW open, welcome linking in.
    your support is appreciated.

    old poems are welcome!

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