In Midland Where The Trains Go By

A Poem by Dorothy Hewett ©1962 Dorothy Hewett

In Midland still the trains go by,
The black smoke thunders on the sky,
Still in the grass the lovers lie,
And cheek on cheek and sigh on sigh
They dream and weep as you and I,
In Midland where the trains go by.

Across the bridge, across the town,
The workers hurry up and down.
The pub still stands, the publican
Is still a gross, corrupted man.
And bottles clinking in the park
Make symphonies of summer dark.

Across the bridge the stars go down,
Our two ghosts meet across the town.
Who dared so much must surely creep
Between young lovers' lips, asleep,
Who dared so much must surely live
In train-smoke off the Midland bridge.

In Midland in the railway yards,
They shuffle time like packs of cards
And kings and queens and jacks go down,
But we come up in Midland town.
O factory girls in cotton slips
And men with grease across your lips,
Let kings and queens and jacks go down
But we'll still kiss in Midland town.

An oath, a whisper and a laugh,
Will make our better epitaph.
We'll share a noggin in the park
And whistle songs against the dark.
There is no death that we can die
In Midland where the trains go by.