Autumn-Fall by Paul Tristram

The oranges, reds, browns and golds
visually echoed and slided
into cigarette ash greys
past the shatterproof windows
of her solitary compartment.
A train ride to nowhere,
destination unsure and unknown,
more a journey inwards.
An experience in slowly dying
feelings and emotions.
A broken eggshell,
the yolk and life force now dripped away…
waste, left for the mental carrion crows
to peck and laugh at, mercilessly.
Pins and needles of the mind,
and she keeps banging sharply
the un-funny bone of her sighing soul.
The chugging rhythm is nauseating
and for once she’d give anything
for a distraction to her sad plight.
A packed carriage full of families
and screaming, badly behaved kids.
A fire, a catastrophe, a rainbow…
but, there is only her own reflection
which has become far too grim
to even glance in the direction of.

paul smoking - Copy

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!


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