Reading Train

At seven forty three I start to move
But today my seat is facing wrong.
Although I know where I’m going to
What I see is where I’m coming from.

Behind me my future is set out
Like the pages of an unread book.
I look forward into where I’ve been
I contemplate the route that I just took.

And where are you as you start to read;
Facing me or maybe on my right?
Do you read the headlines that I show,
Or scan my just read pages with delight?

Or are you staring now at what I write
Carried by the rhythm of a train
Ignoring quite what I choose to show
Aware of what is entering our brain?

You caught my face reflected in the glass,
As our eyes crossed you rearranged your hair.
This journey joins us both, all the same,
It is the only feeling that we share.

I’ll never know exactly what you read,
Or what you understood that it might say.
Beyond this, there’s no contact in our lives.
We live apart, we travel our own way.

We’re just commuters on a crowded train,
We each depart from a different station,
And none of us can choose where to sit.
We travel, blind, to our destination.