Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry


It seems like a different country now,
The train ride over the bridge
By the petrol station, that past
Adrenaline to get up and get to
The door replaced by ‘this is where
I used to get off and have a long
Drive yet home.’

One more stop to go now instead
Across what seems like a border
But isn’t, another seventeen
Minutes to a station I can’t sleep through,
And where a cathedral bows at the
Exiting traveller. And that’s what
I call home now.


No MastoPrompt today. Wrote this on train last night just coming into Norwich. The weather is making me tired. Another long day.

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