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