My head is buried in Dickens

Oblivious to passing

Hedge wall and fence

The train chitter clatters

Ignored in open fields

By disinterested cows and sheep

The tiredness and regular rhythm of the train

Plays on my ability to keep awake

Until it slows and pulls into the station

Sighing with a jolt where the doors slide open

And we the passengers are greeted

By the moving stream of others

Who fill the carriage

With bikes, coats and cases

Budging shoving pushing

Every other soul along

An excited

Some forlorn

And weary crowd

Who jostle and juggle suit cases

And pushchairs

Steaming like cows on a winters day

A child crying and climbing

Trying to force its way

From its buggy

The mother in tight fitting jeans and heels

Speaks in an African Tongue on her phone

Whilst another of her offspring

No more than three or four

Simply stands eyes wide open

Big brown saucers

Apparently fascinated by all around her

Smiling and mute

Her chocolate tone offset from her bright

And pretty dress

 

The train moves off

With a repeated shudder

The smile and the talking mother undaunted

Through tunnel and screaming

Of demanding child

Until at last a dummy is produced

And child is released into its mother’s arms

Conversation continued

As if nothing else had happened

And onward we travel through

Intermittent chatter and motivated distraction

My head rocks and eyes flicker again after

Just a few more lines of Dickens

And then we have reached our destination

And my head and eyes rear

To attention

The smile from the child still there

As I leave the carriage 

Ready to make that change

Crossing platforms

To yet another waiting train

This time full to the brim

Of brief cases, suits and ties

Nails, skirts and phones

All of which I manage to ignore

And my head goes down

For a second round of

Being lost in Dickens

The battle to stay awake

And remain in the moment

Won

Three pages read

Before termination

And walking home