The Northern Line

Maybe it's because I'm a Northerner, but for some reason I've grown quite attached to the Northern Line (Charing Cross branch) recently. The Northbound platform at Embankment is particularly intriguing, but I can't think what it is. It's almost eerily silent with just occasional drifting voices when the train isn't thundering in to the station.

Weird.

It's also started to inspire me, mostly I think because of the juxtaposition of noise and silence.

Whatevs. It's making me write.

Silence
Waiting
Voices sound
Drifting
Wondering
As steel wheels pound
Hair
A flutter
In rushing air
Seeing
Blanks
In eyes that stare

28 Days Later

4 weeks ago I made a decision. A big one. In a small way. I even started to write about it, but as yet haven't published. Maybe I'll finish the writing and make it the long version of this post.

So yes, a decision. And the world changed. Almost immediately. Mostly this is for the better, though there is one annoying fly in my particular brand of ointment that might become an issue. To be fair I expected it, so not the end of the world.

This morning though, another big moment. My words returned. They tried to last week, as I began to write about new beginnings, but they broke as the gossamer thread of a spider is torn by a cement mixer in a hurry. Or something.

It would appear I'm still, rather annoyingly, rhyming naturally. But it was nice to experience the rush of me having a thought about unnatural and stifling silence on the North bound Embankment Northern Line station this morning...

Northern Line

A stifling silence
A thunderous roar
A rushing train
Please mind the doors
A foetid mist
On phones they play
Awaiting that
Another day

It won't win any prizes, but I don't care, I missed my words.