A.i.R. Poem | Train by Siân Norris

 

The train hasn’t turned on its lights.

 

Plunges into the tunnel regardless.

An ancient darkness.

 

I take off my sunglasses,

blink mole-sighted.

 

The darkness remains

 

and with it a

rising urge to scream

 

and I start to think that,

maybe,

I’m still

sleeping.

That, maybe,

this dark length is a

nightmare

from which I’ll soon

wake up.

 

I want to wake up from nightmares to

you.

To your heavy sleepiness beside me.

To roll across

and nudge my face rodent-like

against the weight of your arm.

 

I think I’m falling.

I don’t know what to do.

 

The darkness fades to rain.

I’ve no coat.

Wearing sandals.

 

You laugh at my ineptitude.

Wrap me up in your arms,

my coat.

 

 

(image credit: John Davies)