On the motorway standing on the concrete how alone I feel with no one visible
It’s also something to do with size, mine and the roads m
Its like arriving at Manchester Piccadilly station on the train from Birmingham carrying a heavy suitcase and no one to help.
The best thing I decided was to have a cup of tea in the station snack bar.
The water is so good and so are the accents of the people sitting there are talking about the price of butter and the price of men m
An angel is peering through the top window as if considering a cup of tea and a bun. But they turn away for higher designs.
I want to catch a bus outside to take me to to Manchester exchange. It’s hot on the bus and people look fed up
Eventually I see the green curving landscape and the river which tells me I am home. I am me again
How my heart sings 