It was Friday - early morning
The Metro wasn’t full
The vacant gaze of travellers
Roamed unseeing, quiet, until
We perceived upon the platform
Oblivious to none
A sleeping, sprawled out fellow
Arms akimbo, suit undone.
Who was he? What had happened?
A late night drunken spree?
Had he lost his job, his girlfriend?
All craned their necks to see.
A spark was lit in those dull eyes
The commuters brought up short
He attracted stares from passers-by
Their attention briefly caught.
But strangely, no one slowed their pace
Wry smiles but not one word.
They left him sleeping on the bench
Not their problem – no one cared.
This happened a short while ago
Now the rush hour’s come and gone
Where was the Good Samaritan?
I am puzzled – but move on.
(c) Poet in the woods 2015
Note for the curious: June 2010...