In the days when I loaded goods trains for a living
Out of love for you, and no small concern
I felt cold and tired and clean
My throat pulsed slowly with the cold air’s burn
Down on the silvering frost-lit rail
Balanced with risk on the oiled sleeper
Pushing upwards against the weight
Of an electric four-ring cooker or a fridge
The tracks going on till they fell off the world’s edge.
I was selfish as anything just-born, and unforgiving
Out of love for you I made an effort to learn
To find a heartfelt thing and mean
It when a moment of your needing had its turn
By moon, by sun, I swore I would not fail
To grow by step, by step, to be my lover’s keeper
Hard work would temper me and keep me straight
But I grew narrow as a rail, cold as an empty fridge
As useful as a dead cooker dumped in a country hedge.
