~ By
Courtesy of Others ~
Cold Rain
Cold black rain hits the late train window
as we head for homely pleasures of oblivious bed.
Another late Saturday night fever coming closer.
She whispers at me through a mutual alcohol haze.
"Hey, see that guy with the hair?
He should be in Motorhead, you know?!"
I catch his bleary eye and we grin at each other.
I ask "Where you from, my friend?" He tells me:
"County Down" in a near forgotten yet familiar accent.
"Long way from home, yeah?" and we shake
hands.
We talk of women and beer as the train rolls on and on
through darkened country. She elbows me in the side.
"Can I try on your waistcoat?" he asks me
suddenly.
She giggles as I slip it off and he pulls it on,
not understanding the ancient bonds that link us.
"Nice fit" he says, "Yeah" I say
"but I need it back now.
We're getting off next stop, OK?" He nods and hands it over.
I drag it back on and she drags me away as the train slows.
"Safe journey!" I call back down the
carriage as we step off.
"Always was!" he yells back, waving through the windows
as the train pulls away and our endless paths diverge.
"I still say he oughta be in Motorhead!"
she laughs.
She will never know that once, in another time, we were brothers
sailing out from a fjord together in the cold black rain.
© Alan Hodgson
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