The window's fogged. Outside, torrential rain.
I know the streets we cross, have seen the cat
that's lying, staring from a fourth-floor flat
bay window as we pass. The slowing train
bounces on points. And I get down my case,
but don't move to the door. Let others crowd
and shove. I'm not that eager. It's allowed
to take one's time, do things at their own pace.
Love fetched me to her city long ago.
I left but every ticket's a return
And here I am again. Perhaps I'll earn
release this time. More probably will go
confused down dark streets, hopeless in love's maze
of frenzied nights, and empty long sad days.