Diversion

For a while, I’m lost

I must have drifted off

To look out is to look in, at my companion across the table

At the foursome opposite, slightly elevated

At the line of lights, soft green and red, which raise a passing curiosity

A book lies open by my hand, cover uppermost, a newspaper folded beneath

My glasses case

Plastic arm of glasses pinched between thumb and forefinger, moving almost imperceptibly

We have slowed

Interior gives way to illuminated buildings, lit yards paging right to left

Whole streets of human life – a river interrupts, hollow overbridge

A level crossing imposes anonymity between two stranded halves of a different evening

Chequerboard of windows, lit yards, illuminated buildings

And the diversion's gone

My companion is tipping Pringles in small piles

The line of green and red resumes its unobtrusive glow

A gentle, insistent force rocks me right, then left

Plastic arm presses forefinger and thumb

And I’m lost again