never the same twice

Over the years, I’ve done a lot of travelling on the railway line between Gloucester and South Wales, which runs for quite a long stretch beside the Severn Estuary.

I usually try to sit with my back to the engine, and preferably a window seat so I can look out at the river. Although the view is very familiar, I can seldom resist snapping a picture or two.

Sometimes it’s of the view back towards Gloucester.
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no change

It’s Saturday and, as usual, I’ve spent half the day wondering what on earth I’m going to write on the blog.

Not having had any major new insights or flashes of inspiration, let’s continue from last weekend, when I said that I was trying to choose which poems to read at an evening where the theme was change.

I didn’t find it a very easy task and reckoned that it would be much easier for the writers of fiction: even I know enough about plotting to be aware of the common story structure that sees the protagonist undergo a transformation, but that really can’t be applied to poetry.
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