Saturday, 20 February 2010
re POEM 28
Sipping tepid coffee, Amante
and I trample over footbridge, descend stone stairway,
and rest black bike against platform bench; hard,
unlike the hint of his Jean Paul Gaultier
perfume tickling my cold nostrils; warm, familiar.
by a woman in her sixties pacing
with a pinched ‘I’ve just missed a train’
expression; her short booted strides
clunk concrete. Her bright pink coat
and ash-grey layered cut gives me chuckle,
Growing old gracefully? I suppose. Just as I am; snagged
in sequined net of romance on Deansgate platform.