Bora born

Such a thing as this _

Afternoon rush hour, the goCard theme orders

travel plans away from high rise towers of

people eaters, expelled onto streets of one
way traffic, determined soon to be house bound.



Platforms of humans pulse in sync with passing trains

the ritual so determined no one's left out

of this cyclic melodramatic pretense

at civilised behaviour's silent sure bent.



And yet, it allows the impossible to

unwrap on a level unseen, not noticed

by the cacophony of human cargo

as the train pulls into south brisbane station
.

Sliding doors pulse open, air pressed in fashion

on a waiting crowd of silence, faces in

phones bar one who stands feet together, coloured

against a backdrop of slated grey on gray.



Her diminutive exquisite sculptured form

dressed on her quiet demeanor of sombre like

overtones of patience said volumes for youths 

self worth entrapped in others sense of beauty.



The cat walk no smile preserves youths' inner glow
in tepid toned olive skin to dress her

formal slender over thin frame in mystery

schemes of human practice, nature rarely trends.



She motions onboard next to the standing silver haired

older man whose smile she met while on the

platform in eye contact her countenance draws

in daily ritual of every persuasion.



Other travellers withdraw from her personal

space yet she allows the firm move against his

arm to remain in such a way, brush strokes of

intimacy become their journey's friend through

to cooparoo station when they both leave, their

timed chanced nuanced meeting hidden in plain sight.

- O -

©  71h mar 2020 _ Ian James Daniel

Author's notes are here.



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Such a thing as this _

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