Tuesday, November 17, 2020

The Station Master at Caringbah

18/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation



When I was a child

My mother didn’t own a car.

She hadn’t driven very far

Since before the day I was born.



We took trains a lot,

And buses, but mostly trains

To school and home again,

And to sport training sessions.



It wouldn’t matter the weather,

Nor the season, nor the occasion,

We would traipse up and down steps

To and from platforms and concourses.



Most staff would give us a smile

Or say hello as we passed them by

Our faces familiar to them

But nothing beyond that.



But one station master was different

He would go out of his way to help,

Stop for a chat with us both

And felt very grandfatherly to me.



Maybe it was because I was young

And all older people seemed that way

Because I’d not had a lot of experience, 

With both grandfathers long since gone.



All I know is that he was nice

And a genuine kind of man

I wish I could remember his name

But it was so long ago.



When it late and dark,

He would keep an eye on us

Making sure nothing happened

And that we made our train safely.



And if the wind had a bit of bite to it

Or it was raining cats and dogs

He’d let us sit in the ticket office

By the heater so we’d stay warm.



He taught me how the indicator board worked

And how to change the destination signs

Without any notion of reward

For the kindness he bestowed on us.



Now I am grown with my own child

Who loves the railways, too.

He hopes to work for the network

And become a train driver one day.



I wish I could have introduced them

Because I’m sure with all my heart

They would have gotten on famously

But I know it’s far too late.

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