Share a smoke, strolling home
from Camden Lock; watching TVs
and rooms spring to life – lights
going on in other peoples' houses.
It is milder tonight – the thaw,
slowly setting in. Crossing a bridge,
the railway track snakes silver
in the moonshine; far below
we hear the lines sing...
Our train, just pulling in
to the station – we run, full tilt,
like a pair of school-kids; breathless...
can almost smell the melt.