From a Train

the green-blue mosaic

at North Queensferry station,

car parks, allotments.

Training

Multiple bodies sitting on a crowded train,

becoming aware, feel Andrew stand

and wobble for thirty minutes;

unwilling to give-up their little seats.

Outside, the sun is cool,

(you might expect cold in winter):

look down, stare ahead, or sleep;

‘we don’t need any connection, eyes hint at a danger’.

Angry, I stand by him

on a raging mind-trip - disconnection, society, media! -

while he rocks and smiles, decides to blow kisses

at reflections in windows, ghosts

and pale echoes of something and nothing.

Then he blows a few more - to the sky.

Morning

Darkness cloaks new shadow

until a burgeoning light

turns pastel into ‘Hello’

and birds uplift in flight.

Andrew's Advice

“When fingers tingle, there’s a chance

that two little legs get up and dance

a tango, quickstep, tap away

and wiggle to YMCA.

“‘Cos when I skip, expressing me,

a little spark enflames, gets free,

and dreamers reach an extra mile;

stand more vertical – and smile.

“Cynical’s an easy stance

(static) – no, come on - and dance.

“Two legs, one leg, arms out, balance

on your day – a happenstance.

“Wear a hat - or silly pants

- let it out - Exuberance!”