I stood upon the platform
Blinked the sun from out my eye
I was silent, taut, composing
My great, noble, last goodbye

I quick-dismissed all thought of flowers
They please the common pack
I sought out words to wind your heart,
A thread to reel you back:

An epic that compared you to each
Season’s sensual roll
How you’re open as a summer
Secret as a winter coal

Perhaps an earthy ballad
Telling how your spirit swerves
Through the beds of kings and artists
How they knelt before your curves

An opera of loneliness
I’d write as my farewell
With a chorus of six-hundred
And a mighty, goodbye-knell

With mourners for your company
Arrayed across the hills
All ululating in their grief
In black, crepe sombre frills

But then a noise disturbed me
From my deep, intense creation:
The hiss of wheel, the creak of rail
The train had left the station