Cyphers Magazine

Publishing poetry, prose and art since 1975

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Siobhán Campbell

 The railway cross is still the place
 we are trusted to open, then close the gates.
 There are no extra safety instructions.
 To stay alive, you must look and listen.
 You know the express can come through  
 at any moment. Pressed air finding our
 cool lungs. One intake and it’s gone.
 Look down the track as far as you can,
 then down the other to the bend, wondering
 what may arrive, unstoppable, desired.
 How pleased we are to be the unattended,
 caught by the graze of apt attention,
 remembering that vigilance once felt like this –
 deciding when to open the gates and cross. 

Cyphers 89