Two men asleep on the tube.
One lady trying not to fall asleep.
One man leaps up-
A bubble of language and he is gone.
A ball of peach fire rises above the telecom tower,
Shedding golden splatters as it ascends.
The hazy world of morning is lit up
And the city breathes silently
A deep creature of concrete.
Sound and maze of electricity -
The grey curtain above this molten skyscape
Mirrors the grey of the world beneath.
The city lives and as I travel through it
I am part of the great creature it is.
I found this poem in a notebook from 2002
I wrote it when I was doing early morning commutes from south to north London