Timing

The railway made the city special.
Like a birthday bicycle
or a new watch, worn to catch a wanted eye.
An other's past is a cold war country
with guarded borders and blacked out signs.
Your guide is map and compass and government approved.
I watch as you break restraint
and skip and dance forgotten
towards the taut tuned bridge.
Hoping for the delicious moment
when your hair-tossing progress
crosses paths with the thundering bow
of the local train
You wash in the shower of noise
and the arched shadow
vibrates with the certainty of possible disaster
and funny-bones your laughing limbs.


Mike Lyne

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