Back tracking

I'm coming back - in reverse too
my carriage seat confronts a fading track
the train counting off the in-betweens in railroad ties
whistle-stops and scheduled ones we meet in brief
here at Crewe is where everyone changes
(you never did though - never felt the need it seems)
and here's where the the journey cuts like a plough
past flat fields and the wet wilderness of silver birch
where soon the brambled embankment closes in
reflections gazing back implacably
remember how mesmerized you were with my eyes
flashes of sun cut glass in morse code moments of emotion
- which means we are almost there, there where you abide
filed between domesticity and phantasy philandering
the engine slowing at the station's approach- just momentarily
then branches onwards, side-lined to a different destination
this is how we've left it each and every time
me moving away, trailing memories

I was  determined to do nothing arboreal with Elizabeth’s prompt: branches And joining up with Grace and other poets for the unthemed Open Link Night