Thunder Sandwich #26 - Aurora Antonovic poetry

Coming Home on the Train From London

Knees pushed up against my chest

Groggy with pain

I rest my head upon my arm

Watching the moving scenery in its beauty

"Can I take your picture, dear?"

An elderly passenger holds up a camera

Ready to snap my photograph

I hold up my hands in protest,

Muttering something incoherently

"It's your hair,

So pretty and dark against the snow outside your window"

My hair, which hangs in disarray

As politely as I can, I refuse

"Don't you recognize her, Mother?" a middle-aged woman whispers,

"She's the weather girl from Channel nine"

I stifle a laugh

And try to keep my gaze on the moving farmhouses

My friend leans forward,

A mischievous twinkle in his eye

"Actually, she's the drummer from the Cure"

Knowingly, suddenly aware, mother and daughter "ahhhh" away

And I am free to go to sleep

Wondering if I really look like Jason Cooper