From Monasterevin’s quiet stop
The morning train rolls west;
Past cattle grazing by the line,
And rooks that guard each nest.

We cross the Barrow’s silver span,
The viaduct below;
A hare breaks cover in the reeds
And watches as we go.

In Port Laoise-bound and drifting thoughts
I catch a sudden grin—
A stranger nods as though they know
Some secret held within.

In town, the same in shops and queues,
A warmth I can’t dismiss;
Until the sunlight catches bright
My rainbow on my wrist.

At evening, on the homebound train,
The fields grow soft and dim;
Two swans drift pale along the Barrow,
Its waters dark and slim.

A fox trots lightly through the reeds,
Its coat a russet flame;
And someone smiles across the aisle
As though they know my name.

I wonder at that gentle glance,
What sign have I dismissed?
Then twilight glints on colours bright—
My rainbow on my wrist.

And home at last in Monasterevin,
The night grown still and wide;
I slip the watch from off my wrist
Where all day colours shone with pride.

I set it gently on its stand,
Its charger’s quiet glow;
The rainbow resting for the night
Till morning’s light will show.

Written February 2026. Inspired by Andrew.

© 2026 Michael McFarland Campbell.

NDP-0014, NDB-0025