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.


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