Part of a series or song cycle:
Sitting alone on my seat in the train
I watch the country pass.
The birds, long gone still fleck the sun.
The furrow remains, the fish now dark
Sucking the stones deep down.
‘How are you?’ she asks,
I say ‘Fine.’
Her mind is sharp, her body divine.
We leave the train, marry, do what people do.
Now she is bones all chipped and traced,
And of her I little knew.
The train goes on.
Where am I going?
From where did I come?
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Previously performed at:
(As part of a song cycle/series:)
- 23 Oct 2021: 101. Jonathan Dove: The Passing of the Year