The Swirl

On a crowded platform, all around me
confusion. Body sticky from early morning heat
and the walk to the station.
The train approaches, late again.
I turn towards it, eager to be off,
And she is there. Clutching coffee,
Mobile phone in hand.
Her hair is golden, her eyes bright.
I smile at her; a tentative act.
She begins to smile and then is lost
In the swirl of boarding.

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