Missing green spikes

Purple pops from steel 
Colours of train and rain 
Bounce blue like my swollen 
Frostbitten sausage toes 

No tree this year 
It’s all I can think about 
As the numbness travels up the carriage 
Into my leg and consciousness 

Are we too late? Being slow?
Feels like I’ve left something 
Not sure whether to go home 
For the keys 

We used to play this game 
Finding the big tree 
So big  
The boot would hang open 

I’d watch the road underneath 
The hazy white lines
Green spikes 
In my pockets and shoes

I could fit a big tree 
In this train 
Then I’d see the tracks
Going by