At motorway services (IP)
Passing through from far and wide,
parking neatly side by side,
no-one knows from where you’ve come,
no-one caring where you’ve gone.
Glossy shop, expensive ‘tack’,
(what did I forget to pack?);
stretch my legs, and find a loo,
get a magazine or two;
weary hours stretch out ahead:
coffee? dinner? sweets instead?
sitting in the sleek café, –
watching, thinking, ‘Who are they?’
‘What’s their work, how high’s their pay? …
has she travelled far today? …
What a funny outfit, that! …
isn’t he hot in scarf and hat?’ …
Everyone is on their way,
travelling on somewhere today.
Will we all tonight be where
we intend to go from here? …