Under security mirror
and manifesto of adverts,
we who wait, watched over.
Beneath the fish-eye stare
I pace an edge’s yellow warning,
taste dampness in September’s air,
and scan the choice of company.
Youth adjusts its midriff,
selects new tracks to pass midday
content in isolation.
Down parallels of to-and-from
I look to gauge direction;
for unloosed words to run
true as that line below bridges:
each arch seen through a nearer one.
The boundaries, brick and wooded,
narrow to distant amber:
our signal undecided.
My train is overdue.
A crisp bag crackles, and silent
the first leaf falls, no end in view.
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