I wonder if they wonder too, the people on the tube –
About the day and week and life I’ve gone through –
Do they look for clues? Buried in coats and scarves
And mobile phones, are they concealing similar
Silent disappointments, pipe dreams and
Thoughts of first loves? Or are they just thinking
About what’s for dinner? Or their damp bathroom walls
Or the cost of putting the heating on or how the piles
Of rotting leaves are piling up before their doors?
Maybe it is both at once, and that’s what keeps us sane,
Clattering through the darkened tunnels on an insignificant train.