Waterloo and Beyond

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Waterloo and Beyond

The sliding doors close
with an hydraulic full stop.
From my chair I look up
for the flashing running man
whilst the whistle momentarily
deafens me.
No turning back, the
option has been deleted
as I clench inside.
An electric glide
crescendos into the
platform edge and we hit
the great, white yonder.
Clickety click and yet
more photos are chosen
for the album;
my other mother’s happy.

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