27 MARCH 1993, Page 38

The Leave Train

The train is moving; Out of the window I'm waving; Sister, daughter, friend and son Wait on the platform unaware The train has gone.

Behind them, relations, people At parties, in shops, in the street — People I know by sight but not to meet; They cannot see The light gone green for me On a line untravelled.

One day they, one at a time, Will take the train, Each to a different destination Not yet printed in the guide. Yet every ticket's ordered in advance.

Under the clock they hurry Home and back again Making a dance of the timetable, believing The train they must catch Is not yet running.

Phoebe Hesketh