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