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Fenland Station in Winter

Fenland Station in Winter by Katherine Pierpoint 'The railway station in winter lies wide open on three sides; A waiting mousetrap. No creatures out in the hard fields, The desert of blue-lipped ice. The tracks tweeze the last thin train away, Wipe it on the rim, and lose it. The sky is bent so low now, the wind is horizontal. It whittles the sky's undersurface to the pith, Paring away a grey unwinding peel of snow. A mean, needling flake rides the flat wind, Picking the empty teeth of the trees, Then falling, frantic, to gnaw at the setting earth, Clinging there like a starving mouse's claws in velvet.'

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