Enoch Runsewe

Enoch Runsewe – train attendant
I met him once
on the train,
we spoke, briefly,
short, to the point,
I wanted something
he could supply,
in mere seconds,
I wouldn’t recognise him
without his badge
and I, without ID,
now sipping my tea,
remain anonymous, forever,
unremembered, by he.

picture the scene

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This entry was posted on Sunday, February 27th, 2011 at 1:54 pm and is filed under chinks, poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

One Response to “Enoch Runsewe”

  1. The stones that roll and other Coach M musings | Philosopher on Tap says:
    November 25, 2012 at 1:06 pm

    […] Giant haystacks. Solar cells.  Onboard staff are working overtime and I wonder whatever became of Enoch Runsewe whom I only ever saw once. The sky clouds over as we approach the great […]

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