Poems with pictures
Poems with pictures
Cometh the hour
“Passengers for Kings Cross Suburban should make their way along Platform 8 to access Platforms 9 - 11”
Consider, at 15.59,
(If you want a definition of
Sheer, blind panic)
The face of the man on Platform Number 8
(Whose duty it is
To dispatch the express to Aberdeen)
Discovering that
He has lost
His whistle.
Regard his lunge
At a passing colleague
To appropriate
What’s called for,
So that bang on the dot
He can do the deed.
Observe that thus
Magically
His call gets answered, distantly,
Red turns to green,
And in an unexpected stillness
The slightest of movements
Becomes an accelerating blur
Of lives, several and unknowable,
Caught in the act
Of heading North.
Congratulate him
(If you will),
Then carry on
To Platform Number 9
To catch a train home,
Euphorically.
January 2003