The last train

Powdery iris, violet, cold incense, ash and skin musk: quiet scents for the evenings when you feel a little blue.

A night platform: one lamp, mist over the tracks, a departures board and a clock nearly at midnight. The sad scents wait on suitcases. See one off and it steps out under the lamp, the board clatters round to its name, and a train goes through and takes the old one away.