thecheesewolf

Cheryl Garner 2013 

And so it seems this all must end

In blue and gold and shattered glass,

In metal coils around the throats

Of mottled lives between the cracks.

What route I took I just don’t know,

It seemed so long and hardly changed:

No matter how, the rains will fall,

The storm will come and I will fall.

I have no questions left to ask.

Explosions in the sky can pass,

Explosions take my eyes and pass,

Explosions bring this to its end.

The summer lost its heart to me,

But I was cold and told it so.

Journal Entry (18/11/1998)

Because I was early this evening I am cramped on to an earlier train than usual. Because I was early out of work I will have half an hour waiting in Steeton for a bus. I could have waited inLeedsstation, but I had to run to catch this train. No time for well thought through decisions.

It is hard to hide this as I write. I have very little room for my arms because I am in the middle of a seat supposedly made for three (three children it must have been). This was because I was early, so early I was late.

It is hard to hide this, but important that I do, though why it is I am not exactly sure. I write to be read, after all.

Writing can be secret, can be about secret things, of course, but the act of writing should be. Most definitely. It is a question of time: time for the reading of others.

Control can be incipient, silent, shy. Writing kind of demands that kind of control. It is quiet until it is finished.

Photograph by Cheryl Garner (2013)

Poem by thecheesewolf (2013)

Train Journal entry by Gavin Jones (1998)