These platforms should not exist But they do exist Platform 0 or Platform Zero I am on such a platform People are walking by And saying Generations To me I find this very puzzling Trains are frequently passing by But none are scheduled To stop at Platform 0 Which tells me That my journey is almost complete A bunker has appeared behind me I have no explanation for this Soldiers stare at me My sports bag has been stolen And returned It is full of meagre rations The bunker vanishes I look at my watch It is 20:22 On the Sixth of December 2022 The air temperature is three degrees A biting wind chills the platforms Platform 0 lacks a waiting room The shelter is derelict I am sitting on a giant concrete plant pot Which has been unused for years Sounds of the past echo Into the vacancy of the night I close my eyes And for a moment witness The considerable beauty Of the ghostly flowers This brings tears to my eyes In the distance a track worker Is filling an empty wine bottle With coloured and clear marbles This reminds me of my childhood