Red-Headed

It takes about forty-five minutes on the train
That's three quarters of an hour more or less,
And as the countryside vistas flow past
I can listen to The Jesus And Mary Chain.

Of course I could listen to anything I desired,
An act of Puccini, maybe all of Tabarro.
All just as long as it allows me the drift
Drowsily merging the rhythm required

To make my commuting seem so surreal
And take me away from the urban mundane.
The drift sets me up & tempers my mood
Which prepares me well for how I will feel.

By Never Understand I know I'm half way
The first real glimpses of entering the city
and, as Larkin observed, just not at its best.
Aesthetically, to me though, just another workday.

Life is a journey as platforms fly by us
And we all have to find our own ways to drift
While the vistas go by to recede in the distance
We'll have to believe that all isn't hopeless.

The ear buds come out as I step from the carriage
The weather's picked up and I'm enjoying the silence.
So maybe tomorrow I'll listen to some Wagner
But noise pop & train rides appeal as a marriage.