Poetry: Commuting

A train of modernity

We commuters sit

Facing either backwards or forwards,

Ignoring one another

As we jet towards

Our various individual locations…

Across from me is a mother

Struggling to control an unruly child.

In an attempt not to smother

She became one of those who spoilt the kid

Like her own mother did.

Yet now it sits and screams

As she jets towards the city,

To shop and stress and sigh

At all those long lost dreams

In the corner of my eye

Sits a man in a crisp black suit,

The traditional sort who wears a tie

And believes in decorum and old attitudes.

He grips a briefcase

Staring at a modern day phone

Pretending not to look

At the business woman who sits with grace

And elegance

Reading a tattered book.

And in another space

A rabble of students sits in a herd

Babbling about this and that,

Tugging at their unwanted uniforms

As their voices are blurred.

And within hearing of their chat

an old woman stares.

Wondering what the world has come to,

Wondering what it is these kids do

All day in their classrooms

If they fail to learn manners.

For one kid runs past and bangs against her

oblivious to old standards.

And yet come the next day

we commuters sit again.

And the mother smiles

for her child behaves

and the businessman chats

to the woman he admires

and the students sit

discussing knowledge and reading

whilst the old woman approves

of the way the world is heading…

So we get off at our respective locations

never to speak or see each other again.

Only a brief moment of contact,

of interaction…

before we go on our way again

by Elena Asplen

for more “commuter-inspired” creativity, see out post about missed connections here.


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