On the platform as the sun rises
Bald heads crowd into carriages
Girls with glasses and painted lids
Hold onto iPads and ear phone hoods
A half awake baby feeds at the breast
Of a working mother hurriedly dressed
And scratch chews biscuits on the floor.
Meanwhile in the corridor of time
Millie lifts up her jumper
To show Tim her chickenspot spots
Now crusted over with calamine
No longer contagious.
Before entering Euston
The train waits ten minutes
At a red light.
And for the rest of the day
Nothing goes right.

Love Mary x