301 Long Branch, 4:17 AM
Are our phones frozen by February?
Or are we letting them rest
in pockets, and in purses
like the ones we love best
At this bewitching hour.
So strange it seems,
we’re compelled to connect
and strangers form teams.
And “I don’t know you, I don’t want to,”
That fear that floats through the mind -
so prevalent all day, it seems now is not the time.
Maybe the last few dregs of a pint
has changed my heart and my mind.
Curiosity ripples through me and I look down to find:
My watch laughing.
Nice try, kiddo. That was 2 hours ago.
Looks like you talk to strangers now, yo.
So am I crazy?
It is not commonplace
to connect with other commuters,
or even look them in the face.
Yet here all we are.
Squad 301
from Alton to O’hara,
like a favourite rerun.
We talk music and weather and loving and sports.
I share life snippets with you,
and you ask me for more.
Time shares us,
and a tired ride home.
The last awake in the world;
together, we are alone.
