Commuter Paradise

Newspapers and gadgets are props

covering the hollowed glaze of non-looks.

How to avoid searching too deep,

meaning best left formulated by others,

through shopping sprees and TV,

in front of which you fall asleep.

With pendulous lids and bags dangling on hips

they shuffle along, spilling on platforms,

thundering the footbridges with their cadences of resignation.

Sleep-flushed faces in the dank reek of stations at dawn,

they come and go,

and in their tread I detect fear

of letting down,

of being let go.

12 thoughts on “Commuter Paradise”

  1. Marina Sofia – You’ve captured very well the way commuters seem to hide themselves when they’re taking public transportation. Beautiful!

    1. Thank you, Margot. I was on a day trip to London recently and the automaton or herd behaviour of the crowds of commuters really struck me. When I was one of them, of course, I didn’t notice it…

  2. The beauty of this is when it stops! believe me, then, one starts living again… ๐Ÿ™‚ well captured!

  3. This reminds me of the stories my brother-in-law has told us about his two hour commute. Nice job!

    1. Two hours? Oh, no, don’t think I could do that. Doing one hour (each way) while pregnant was a bit of an eye-opener. For example, no one gave me their seat.

      1. I don’t think I could either. (do what my brother-in-law does) It’s not distance as much as just coping with the amount of people going into the US capital city on a weekday morning.

  4. I used to travel almost 1.5 hours…I used to sleep sometimes, or read…
    Your poem brought back the memories of that stressful time. Very beautiful.

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