The train emerges from the underpass
to be assaulted by the early morning sunlight
I try to squint into it.
along with the others
who forgot what side of the train to sit on
Daylight savings' salvation still a week away
The sun screams into my face
slipping into the carriage
like a veteran fare evader
urban shadows flash across the scene
strobing through my clenched eyelids.
The people who knew what they wanted to be when they grew up
stare back at us,
they knew where to sit, saw it all coming.
the scratched windows mock us further with disfiguring shadows
hastily applied vandal wrinkles, defying age or status.
Blind hands lay frozen solid in our laps
the proximity to strangers
strangers we see every day
immobilises us
until the passageway fills
with more commuters
some savvy, some fools,
at Camberwell.
