I look at the ocean,
Does it look back?
I see it clean the sand,
Does it see me making the footsteps?
The beauty and the clarity of the north sea,
Separated only by gold from the city.
A loving grandfather plays chase with a grandchild,
Just as the sea place chase with the seagulls.
A line of street lights stand guard,
Like tall green pillars,
Protecting the road by the sea,
From the dark of night.
Lists of boats lay in clusters,
Atop the flat blue water,
Aboard them crews are just stirring,
Ready to start earning.
All this can be seen,
By the shores of Aberdeen.
Looking out through a train window,
Nature looks like a snapshot,
Just a picture passing at seventy miles an hour.
Life is just standing still on the other side of this glass.
This glass cold to the touch and the only thing between me and the real world.
Sitting in a man-made object looking out onto nature.
Wondering what would be here if it weren’t for the rail line and this seven tone bullet.
The rail line rust coloured and just sitting there to help man get from point a to point b.
The grasses in their respective fields are green.
The straw in theirs yellow and in some bailed.
The hill like clouds of land blend into the land like clouds in the sky.
The trees browning and the water running under the occasional bridge.
The cars on the road and the tractors in the fields.
The only apparent moving objects.
The sun blanketing the land in its golden rays makes water glint with a fiery haze.
Looking out through a train window.
Town life looks alive.
Moving and bustling around.
Mankind is not stopping for anything on the other side of this glass.
This glass misty up from the smoke of the town and the only thing between me and the modern nature.
Sitting in a man-made object looking out onto modern nature.
Wondering what would be here if it weren’t for the rail line, this seven tone bullet and all the houses and business around me.
The rail line silver coloured as if just laid down, and there for multiple purposes.
The people in their respective professions working to make money.
The homeless sitting at street corners and some making money selling magazines.
The houses like plains of objects blend into the land like plains in the sky.
The trees still browning as if not deterred by the smog filled modern nature.
The water running cloudy under the bridge.
The cars on the roads and the people in the street move with intention.
The sun trying to light up the ground but being dimmed by the smog in the air makes the water glint feebly.
Heading closer and closer to Aberdeen life sees so surreal out here in the train.