Train Challenge - Diane Scantlebury

Why do I run for the first train
When the next is on the opposite track?
Rushing, hauling heavy suitcase
Hurting my back,
The crazy dash through Victoria
The challenge of the race,
Three minutes to go
Before the whistle blows,
And the doors close before my face,

But I make it
Sweating, panting,
Sticky from exertion and the heat,
Up for challenge number two
To find a vacant seat,
Squeezing down the narrow aisle
Eyes darting from left to right,
Searching for a place
To rest my weary bones,
Try to stay polite,

But no one wants to share
Their personal space,
And guard every inch
With limbs or belongings,
As if an accidental touch
From the jolt of the train,
Could reveal their secret desires
And deepest longings.

Diane Scantlebury