Friday, December 02, 2005

People on the platform

He went round and round stamping his feet
Arms crossed over his chest
A clumsy, whirling dervish
Trying to dance away the cold

Blonde where there was once black where there was once brown
The pink velour tracksuit proclaimed that she was No Angel
Juggling cell phone and crisps
She pushed the pram with her free hand.
Child and mother at the same time

‘Hello! How are you? How’s Sue?
Has she had her baby yet? What are you doing for Christmas?’
The old lady chatters away
But only the cold December wind listens

6 comments:

MumbaiGirl said...

Your tube/railway observations always manage to be so lyrical.

shyam said...

What she said.

TomCruiseChellum said...

Alas fantasticas ie nannu!
Peregrinations in Poetry
What is the shortest distance between prose and poetry ?

apu said...

very observant eye....

gawker said...

blonde - black - brown
beautiful

San said...

lol ur tube tales are fantastic