Underground Station (2009, rev 2010)

They find you like the emblems you find in memories:
Faded, gritty.
No sound, no colour; only silence, only shadows.
Run your hand along an escalator handrail
and get drawn into a different, darker Hammersmith.
Overwrought by the iron giants of memory,
yet gilded by unexpected laugher; shining,
between the fading pages of the past.
Fingers trail on, along cool glass, cool metal, cool stone;
along silent questions, pleas, entreaties, evocations.
Remember? They ask.
Remember the girl clutching fading sun flowers?
Forget, forget the rest.


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