Mobiles on the train

Forgetting how to pray
we rabbit-on instead, lifting
mobile phones in praise
- a modern way of living.

Projecting words as kind-of-truth,
wagging tongues flap on - and on again;
speaking sometimes softly, sometimes rough,
with every song from worry, sorry, joy or sadness, pain.

Praying now I see
cold snow reach out so far
along England’s dusk. It’s Winter and a train
guard calls ‘I apologise’ again, again.

Broken promises! I’m only half aware he’s hoping for
a nod, a yes, responding to a tiny hope, his prayer.

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