7:25 by pete marshall

7:25

by pete marshall

The 7:25 was always late

as heels would click upon the path

that led past booths and open gates

and gents would fold their Telegraphs

and brollies sold a blue chip name

as brogues would splash in puddled rain

for Mondays were a weekend draft

that blew through minds and rumbled past

The 7:25 was always late

as heels would rush and clatter by

in A line skirts with seams so straight

that caught a flash from anxious eyes

and some would take a last long drag

and girls would rummage through their bags

for Mondays were a weekend draft

that blew through days and rumbled past

The 7:25 was always late

as heels would scuff and take the strain

for office clocks would never wait

and empty desks would cause complain

as woollen suits brought heavy sweats

whilst being late showed no respect

for Mondays were a weekend draft

that blew through hopes and rumbled past

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Originally published at One Stop Poetry 28th August 2010

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/canadagood/