Stumbling Toward a Brampton Manor

Brampton, Cumbria, UK
July 12, 2018

When you exit the two-car train 

outside the village of Brampton 

and leave the lonely platform

tugging wobbly wheeled bags 

loaded with too much stuff 

the mile or two toward an old manor 

which your wife saw on the web 

and Google diverts you down a dwindling lane 

lined with loosestrife and ragwort  

where cattle crowd the mid-day shade 

and watch you weary on 

till the surface turns to gravel 

and your wife and daughter forge ahead  

while you tend bags beside the rusting gates 

of a deserted dairy farm 

composing prayers for traveling mercies 

parsing signs and portents 

as the Brampton black cat 

freezes your soul with yellow-green eyes 

and claims your suitcases 

well

this is when a lanky farmer named James 

ambles up, asks if you’re lost 

or Canadian 

then offers a ride in his sawdust truck 

and you choose to trust 

because this is Cumbria 

and life is good – 

your belly’s full 

and the sun held for one more day. 

Tomorrow, let it rain.