43

Stale, hung-over, slouching on the top deck,

forehead pressed against the greasy glass,

       I watched the faces pass

of buildings, raddled, gaunt: a closed-up shop,

the snooker hall that used to be the Tech,

porn showing at the Empire. Then, downstairs

I heard, while we were waiting at the stop,

high voices and, below me, noticed pairs

       of children holding hands,

now climbing effortfully up the well,

eager, like hungry chicks. I couldn’t tell

how old they were, but young enough to cling

to one another, making meek demands

of their fresh world that it not let them down

       but give them everything.

Most shared their seats - tall short, fat thin, white brown;

some kept a calm solemnity that made

the older women tilt their heads and smile.

The teacher’s call soon came and down the aisle

they rushed to join an urgent, squashed-up queue

       that fed a slow cascade

and spilled into a spreading pool outside.

The park awaited them, but now I knew

I’d stay on into town, just for the ride.