As the rain falls in the early evening
treading the yellow line, solemnly waiting
a little drunk, a little lonely
all too aware of where I’m not going
haunted by the ghosts littering this platform…

As she draws him in so close to her
he dips his head to accept those smiling lips
begging, O!, they’re beating to be kissed
while phantom hands journey all across her body
curves pushed tight on this freezing platform…

As heavier rain bursts through a pitch black evening
lit orange, my face winces; squinting
twisted by the warmest dreams of last winter
all too aware of what exists back down my tracks
haunted by our ghosts parading on this platform…

As she holds the back of his head so gently
opening his eyes, he looks into hers so deeply
words shoot between, saying ‘I’d leave her for you
just ask me once, and we’ll make this passion permanent’
as those ghosts merge like puddles on the platform…

Clattering lights approaching, shattering the scene
six empty carriages sailing down towards me
inside there’s shelter, some drab imagined safety
but no curves pushed close, no fingers locked tight
haunted by the ghosts on the platform of my mind

Journeying onward but haunted, always
by the ghost of you and I
and all we could have been…

(Feb 2016)