Between Train Stations
Before the aeroplane crosses the traffic My wet umbrella drips its chatter Between the train and the platform Doors open, walk close
And radio on the passenger’ s headphones Loud to the whirl of the engine And doubt on the lady’ s wrinkles Late to a memory she wishes to change And businessmen worship watches An alcoholic asleep And kids keeping their hands to bags of books – but then – The tunnel takes it away
It’ s you on the windowpane Silent footprints of light rain
Who will replace the passenger’ s seat? And whose seat did the passenger replace? We trap ourselves in this heat In static we share this space
We are- Perpendicular strangers in an ephemeral crate The next station is on its way The next passenger is on his way And when the doors open and disassociate We separate
Nathaniel Bok
33