A steam train waits at a station on the edge of the world

As people sunbathe on a beach in Portugal

The train conductor cuts a lonely figure on the icy platform

Some shelter under the yellow and white sun breaks  

She looks at the casual mountains above her

Whilst others enjoy the the freedom of the shifting sands

It is snowing and the shallow trees are almost obscured by the winter mists

 

The day is drawing to a close and the sea is beginning to lose its blush

 

This causes a column of steam to hang vertically in the rigid air

In an hour the beach will be empty

Late passengers are running with an undue haste

It has served its purpose

As the train is about to leave

And leaves only the sand furniture to greet the night

It will not return during the short daylight hours