To Dorchester


The engine drags us through

a rich and verdant land

lush from unusually heavy summer rains


The rhythm is punctuated by small stations

boasting tidy flowerbeds and once busy buildings

that slumber now as polluting cars

offer a more convenient means of travel


I am afforded the luxury of time to think

and to stare out of the window

where I see my life dashing by

each blade of grass a memory lost


Closer now to my destination than to my home

the journey has passed all too quickly

I should have liked a little more time, just a little,

to have lingered a while at each of the stops along the way.


by Scooj


* something of a rarity from me. Always a little nervous of sharing poems other than haikus or tankas.