Sonnet Composed Inside Bristol Temple Meads

by Aidan Chivers

As I wait for my train I watch thoughts and strangers roam

In two centuries of litter where I stop and bathe my mind;

I trace the seats, the tracks, the stars, to see, or maybe find

A moment for myself in this place they’ve all called home.


I step across the gap, weighed down with the heavy tome

Of age-old words and waste, which leaves me stuck behind:

As the train enters the night, to its man-made path confined,

Harsh lights brush through Bristol’s moonlit monochrome.


A man stands still on the platform, looking back at me,

With eyes that catch me in their grasp, his pupils inky-black.

I form a poem in his head as Brunel’s station starts to flee;


He shrinks away, a distant shape across the track.

I lose myself, I turn, and aching, strain to see –

I watch and blink, but just my own two eyes stare back.


The Poor Print

Established in 2013, The Poor Print is the student-run newspaper of Oriel College, Oxford, written by members of the JCR, MCR, SCR and staff. New issues are published fortnightly during term. Our current Executive Editors are Siddiq Islam and Jerric Chong.

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