The other night we had a real taste of a cold, windy, wet winter’s night. The rain pelted against the windows. The glass shook under the strain of huge gusts. Possums appeared to stay in their trees, roofs or boxes, fearful of being carried away like old umbrellas. Above all, we were all aware of the highway and the train line, whose sounds were hugely magnified by the fierce southerly. At one point in the middle of the night, a coal train appeared to be coming through our garden, such was the cacophony. Really, it sounded only meters away!

So today when I was spending a little time with an old uni literary primer, which is a brick of a thing to hold, I came across a poem about a coal train, far better then the one I wrote a few days ago. It wasn’t until I had read the poem through that I noticed the title and smiled. I had been diddled.

“In Memoriam John Coltrane”

 Listen to the coal

rolling, rolling through the cold

steady rain, wheel on 

  wheel, listen to the

turning of the wheels this night

black as coal dust, steel

  on steel, listen to

these cars carry coal, 

listen to the coal train roll.

Michael Stillman

Yes, a tribute to one of the great modern jazz saxophonists. The whole poem is a splendid metaphor for the magic that Coltrane brought to performance. Have a listen to him if you don’t believe me. The poem has a highly musical quality, one amplified by being read aloud.

And yet, I like to think that this is also a poem about a coal train riding through a cold wet night. I guess that it can be both. Maybe.