The mornings are still these days,
The streetlights silent in the half-light
Of shadows and passing trains.
They shake the house,
I feel the mortar move and the bricks slip
Each time the track is passed.

Sometimes two cross,
Wave hello and then goodbye so briefly
There is hardly time for the sharing of names.
That’s ok, for some pass each day,
Same time, same way,
Share names and histories.

Precious moments in life.

It’s sad that the timetables change,
And two once so familiar they were almost one,
Pass on different tracks again.
It’s as if they were strangers once more,
Yet now with that hopeful glance to see if
At the same time each day, in the same place
There might be the other looking the same way
For a familiar friend, with a familiar smile on a familiar face.

Phillip Mellor 2015

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