a conversation in poetry

Ian Humphreys # 1 – ‘Back to where we came from’

Back to where we came from

I’m caught off guard as the train slides backwards from Bradford Interchange. That often happens here, but it jolts me every time. Fellow passengers swap anxious looks. A Polish woman asks her neighbour if this is the right train. Even though I know we’re continuing on to Leeds, I’m rattled. The urge grabs me – to stand up, address the crowd: Things don’t always move forward, sisters and brothers. Societies can stumble. Rights erode. Can’t you see we’re going backwards? Instead, I say nothing. Doze a little as the world unzips. Two seats ahead, a plugged-in suit grips his newspaper while softly crooning to the carriage. Analysing his reflection, I think I can just about make out the front-page headline: ‘The Earth is Flat.’ Of course, it’s a trick of the light. Out there looks much the same as ever from my over-heated seat. In field after field, cut outs of black and white cows line-up like target practice. Across the aisle, a young girl finger-paints a stick-man on a misted window. The figure’s hair stands straight up in comic fright. It’s my granddaddy, she tells the Polish woman. Don’t talk to strangers, the girl’s mother snaps, pretending to read a text. And we enter a tunnel.