Last Train for Edinburgh

by John Stocks

The train for Edinburgh is delayed
We watch the snow tumble in weary silence
Try to warm our hands on mugs of coffee
Soon falling into the mystical trance
Of delayed travelers everywhere
Cocooned in our shadows of substance.

And then, suddenly, I catch the eye
Of the girl I dreamed about last night
Unmistakably, the same long, brown coat
Her hair tied back, and her dark green eyes.

In my dream we spent the afternoon together
In galleries and strolling by the river
We talked about sex and love and death
Families, the fragility of passion
Sat on a bench by roses at St Paul’s
And later over latte, tea and scones.

She is about to board the London train
As in my dream, I move towards her
There is the faintest hint of recognition
A curious and almost teasing stare
A half smile before she turns away
And then is lost forever.