Again...

Again, again
I've written your name
in my little book.

Train, train
again, your name
scrawls itself.

Grass, grass
tumbles past.
I write your name.

Keep, keep
your memory, asleep
under my coat

Grey, grey
old motorway.
I write your name.

Eyes, eyes
and billboard lies
grow and shrink.

See, see
Nothing is free
but your name.

I don't usually post poems straight out. I write them up on word, leave them for a few weeks, then come back an fussily change one or two words. If I'm still not happy it will be another few weeks before they make it onto the net. Sometimes I forget that I've written them. But this poem was transcribed straight from a few jotted lines in my notebook. :) Hope it's okay.