City in the rain (IP)

Children three,
their Mum and me,
leave the train,
to brave the rain,
out from the station,
been told there are signs,
scanning everywhere,
holding hands and bags, and chair,
thickening drizzle all about,
(I think we took the wrong way out),
pouring rain, and hoods fall off –
then I need my own to doff
– obscures the view
when taking children through
busy traffic, crossings quick to change
(country girls will gladly soon,
early afternoon
leave the noise and clatter
all the rush and clutter);
getting wetter;
people we ask say
vaguely, – ‘that’s the way’,
they’re visitors too,
what should we do?
ask a bus shelter queue,
advice from a newsagent man with a map
with buttons to tap;
we’re getting near,
and, see here!–
a policeman (actually, three)
to guide us accurately,
and soon we five,
in the dry arrive.
Well, at least we’re not late
(if we’d taken the taxi-man’s offer
of a ride for a fiver
we’d have had to wait
in this waiting room longer
with our lively three:
Mum with one, and two with me,
for one and Mum must the doctor see.)

Out in the sunshine, once again:
take the right road now, the signs here are plain!
stretch our legs, get fresh air, catch that train!