The train will take me
onwards, an electric hum
a bitter substitute
for the days of steam
and the loosely packed sandwich
that flirts suggestively
with the expiry date
and the unflavoured tea,
hot, sweet, dull as yesterday’s dishwater;
this journey will be different
to the one that we took when
fans in red and thick west
Lancashire accents
set fire to the carriage
and the driver sped on,
eating up miles in an attempt
to blow it out, steam train serenade.