Glimpse Poem by Philip Geoffrey Lock

Rain on my arm
Back corner of the bus and lights make patterns
On the water flecked panes
I look out at nothing and the air is close
Reflected faces silent, people lost amongst people
And there is rain on my arm

A woman cries into her phone and men with faces hard
Keep away the world
Shouts outside are beyond distance
Lives avoid touching, the air is close
And tears are lost in the rain

A car glides by, and for a moment I see
Neon lights make patterns and I have...
Borrowed Eyes
In my seat not a boy
But a knight
He looks out at nothing and all that glitters is not gold

Purity of light and armour silver
By another all given not earned
Aura of hope and darkness retreats
Holding weapons of might, authority shines
And the discouraged boy is he

A car glides by and lights make patterns
On the water flecked panes
I look out at nothing and the air is close
There is rain on my arm