Catherine Edmunds – glimpsed

glimpsed

I’m at the station, election night,
addled with speeches, argued out
a train whistles by and my eyes

something, on the retina, an image –

in the train, a woman, her child
muffler round her neck, black hair, a smile

and that’s all I saw, the flashing
of the lights from the windows
but this woman

the hum of electricity sits in the air, dissipates with the memory
of the train
leaves a delicious softness
unexpected

I go home, we make love

Catherine Edmunds reinvented herself as a writer and artist after twenty years as a professional musician. Works in print include poetry, stories and novels. 2015 will see publication of a wartime biography of her mother and a collaborative illustrated novel.

Website: http://www.freewebs.com/catherineedmunds/