Travelling in tubes

Past the concrete hospital,
office blocks, our terrace,
and the redbrick school
to the underground,
where the map
isn't concerned
with actual locations,
but shows instead
how tube stops
best relate.

Then we wait
to squeeze into a carriage
with just enough room
to breathe,
after which we're whisked away
toward our restaurant.

And for a while
all love needs
is a tiny bit of space.

Tristan Moss

If you have any comments on this poem, Tristan Moss would be pleased to hear from you.