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Monday, 9 January 2012

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

**************

Originally published at One Stop Poetry 28th August 2010

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




2 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

The repetition of the refrain seems to be so in keeping with the regularity of the trains late arrival, and the waiting time so filled with human observation.

Steve E said...

Really, well-thought and well-written, Pete.

I never got to ride the 7:25 because I was always late. The one time I was early--abut 38 years ago, the 7:25 was ahead of schedule!--grin!

this is a fun read, Sir. thank you!
PEACE!