Lydia
pale and thin
lanky hair

lightish brown
walks with me
to see hot

steam engines
at Kings Cross
train station

her old man
grudgingly
said she could

go with me
we get on
a bus there

sitting on
a side seat
some big guy

stares at us
his deep eyes
drinks us in

then gawks at
Lydia
she blushes

looks away
I give him
my John Wayne

cowboy stare
he looks back
then away

we get off
at our stop
at Kings Cross

smell of steam
sound of trains
huff and puff

and people
rushing by
on to trains

off of trains
we both sit
on a seat

watching this
unfolding
train drama

with porters
with trolleys
and luggage

and parcels
passengers
going by

rich and poor
Lydia
beside me

wanting this
as I do
the grey smoke

rising high
to the roof
turning blue.