The Night Witnesses

 

        

 courtesy : Forest Terminal by Mike Worrall

A dilapidated station 

Is half awake

A maze of trees Lies in wait

A solitary soul

Draped in black

Lost in thought of remote past

Frozen lake

Nowhere to be seen

Unending rail tracks

Vanish into mists

All promises kept and all miles trodden

Lovely, deep woods must be paid heed to then

Tell tale clock nods, knows what will happen

Written for Sunday Challenge featuring Mike Worrall @ Real Toads & shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United