My Seven Seventeen

I saw you smile to yourself
through the window on the train;
you didn’t notice me
smiling at you
through the window
in the rain;

the mist on the glass
it must have been
that blocked your view
of you to me;

it must have been the mist
on the glass that made you miss
the words I asked.

Into your music
with a pleasured look;
you combed your hair
without a brush;

the train pulled first
shunted my chance
into the sidelines;
you departed with the rain
and left me standing
in the sunshine;

So, if your smile
was meant for me
I’ll still be here tomorrow
platform two,
seven seventeen.

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5 thoughts on “My Seven Seventeen

  1. you departed with the rain
    and left me standing
    in the sunshine;

    I love this. The imagery as well as the juxtaposition of being in the sunshine with a heavy heart. Thanks for waking me up with a smile.

  2. I don’t know much about poetry, but I do know I like this story. It’s something I almost lost my hope that could be thought or written by a man. This might sound bad. Sorry for that. What I am trying to say is that it’s good to know that men can dream/think/write like this too. Like me.

    “So, if your smile/ was meant for me/ I’ll still be here tomorrow/ platform two,/ seven seventeen.”
    Dreamy.

    P.S Mistakes rather than votes? Hmm…

    • That is my self depracating English sensibility. It is a defence mechanism, I have taken away the choice from you. Bit naughty of me but it is in keeping with the rest if my style. I have two older sisters I thonk that is why I am in touch with my feminine side. Thanks for noticing. Dave.

  3. I have nothing intelligent to say, other than I came back to read this a second time.
    And doing so makes me feel as if I’m there, and I can smell wet concrete, and I have my hands in my pockets.

    • Thank you for digging around my blog. I am always interested in people who take the time to look at my older poems, funny but I still like the smell of diesel and wet concrete at train stations, it always seemed to evoke a melancholic sense of loss in me, of peoples lives going in different directions but lately Ive been seeing that the train also arrives if you just wait long enough.

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