One of my favourite forms of poetry. An aural snapshot of a moment. This one was ‘taken’ on my way from Manchester to Leeds on the train as a young mum sat opposite me with her two boys. I thought it was important to get the place names into the poem so that the boy’s dialect could readily be comprehended.
THE DAY TRIP.
© David Milligan-Croft
A stifling July sun
Incubates us on the 12:05 to York.
A young mum sits opposite
Separating her two sons,
Clad in opposing football tops.
A sweaty inspector
Shuffles down the aisle,
From Sowerby Bridge.
The youngest boy juggles
With two tickets
And a potted meat sandwich.
The inspector punches studiously,
And returns them
To the boy’s pudgy palm.
Why have we only got two tickets?
The boy asks his mother.
Because you’re free, she replies.
No I’m not, he insists, I’m four!