avatarK.B. Silver

Summary

This context is a poem titled "Last Train Home" by K.B. Silver, accompanied by a photograph and a personal reflection on the inspiration behind the poem.

Abstract

The poem "Last Train Home" by K.B. Silver is a melancholic piece that captures the struggles of a person on the last day of the year. The poem is divided into several stanzas, each describing different moments of the day, from the early hours of the day extending into forever, to the midday when the bells toll for lunch, and the shadows start racing tasks hurriedly. The poem ends with the protagonist waiting for the last train home, feeling defeated and exhausted. The author was inspired by a December photo prompt and a collection of Beethoven's Winter Vibes on Spotify, which lent a darker tone to the poem.

Bullet points

  • The poem is titled "Last Train Home" and is written by K.B. Silver.
  • The poem is accompanied by a photograph taken by Simon Berger on Unsplash.
  • The poem describes the struggles of a person on the last day of the year.
  • The poem is divided into several stanzas, each describing different moments of the day.
  • The author was inspired by a December photo prompt and a collection of Beethoven's Winter Vibes on Spotify.
  • The author feels that the music lends itself to the darker tones of winter.
  • The poem ends with the protagonist waiting for the last train home, feeling defeated and exhausted.
  • The author can be found on Substack, sending out a weekly newsletter.
  • The author thanks the readers for supporting MuserScribe and encourages them to try out the AI service they recommend.

POETRY ON MEDIUM

Last Train Home

Year’s end blows a despairing wind …

Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash

Time, warped in the white winds of winter the early hours of the day extending on into forever like pearly light rays on the blanketed plains

Midday eventually rolls through bell tolling for those working to lunch gleaming metal thermoses prepared in the dark of morn letting out gasping puffs as aromatic soups and leftover stews are supped on for sustenance huddled over for warmth crackers crunching behind chapped lips

Shadows start racing tasks hurriedly paced through at breakneck speeds snow falling as flakes pile up a living second-hand for the visual time clock flying as the race to his final evening punch last of the year begins still no satisfaction

Bells toll in the distance as he choicelessly trudges through snow, knee-deep after watching it, dance about all day long laying around while he worked himself to the dry old bones left ground down and weak

The situation starts to feel like the cozy, tucked in ground is taunting him on his long way home

Inviting him to give a go at the piles of fluffy freshly fallen snow how tough can all this puffy stuff even be?

Screaming to the heavens in exhaustion and delirious inferiority missiles launched his box for lunch the book he carries but never gets a chance to read

Stomping both feet in a raging display only causes further painful delay the patch of black ice beneath deep obscuring snow catches his bruised heels down he goes back flat on the pavement head saved by some treacherous snow

Tears starting to flow burning skin as they start to freeze what sort of day what sort of entity “don’t you know I’m your enemy why, Oh why did you take me out, while simultaneously saving me?” fists pounding the ground in impotent strikes retaliatory

To the casual onlooker he is breaking down throwing punches in the swirling snow

Looking out through flurrying white dissolved only endless seeping black constantly attacking he’s merely fighting back

Waiting now, for the last train home

K.B. Silver

This December photo prompt struck me with a melancholy tone. It may be partially because I have been listening to a collection on spotify called Beethoven Winter Vibes,

I feel it lends itself to the darker tones of winter—less toward the cheerful, festive ones.

This piece goes through the last day of the year with someone who has been having a tough day, or maybe even a rough year altogether. It watches things get more and more difficult until this person is just spinning out, waiting for their missed train, the last one there will be for the night.

You can find me on Substack sending out a weekly newsletter.

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Poetry
Winter
Despair
Photo Prompt
Muserscribe
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