The trains are the chariots of the people
Carriages ripple with tired tongues of many lands
A lonely man sick with nostalgia for fireworks in the dark
sits across from us and talks intensely
A head on my shoulder whispers new year love talk
The train jerks forwards, happy new year chattily announces the driver
Hands squeeze
Young people hug
Workers sleepy, gaze
Stations come and go
Yarraville.

(2014)