Written this evening on the train home after spending a day in our old home town with some of my children. For the Daily Inkling’s prompt from yesterday. I waited until today so I would have something to write about.

Train slides from one world to another, from silence of bird-bicker to tumult of traffic, from bright, sharp flicker of wings to the greasy take-away throb of wheels, and the vague froth of faces fixed on their own private thoughts. Once I found this incessant motion reassuring, the casual brushing past complete strangers, the incongruities of the architecture, the ugly splashed with specks of beauty.

Now it grates, wearies and I rest on the broad, strong wings of my not-quite-flown nestlings, to bear me high beyond the fumes and clatter, where memories of childhood laughter still linger.

Blue sky a lone bird

ploughs over fields sun-sparkled—

train winds homewards