The woods where once I walked I glimpsed them from the train From thirty years ago I still saw in my mind Catkins and budding leaves The dappled light of spring And kingcups by the stream And bluebells under the trees As I glimpsed the woods from the train. But now the trees stood bare Like a parade of ghosts In the clammy winter fog And the grass lay seared with frost And no-one walked in the woods And the train swept on to the north.