6am is the quietest hour.
6am, silent, and the noise
yet to flower
and it seems the whole city sleeps still.
Yet I will myself up and out of this flat,
and wander to Warren Street,
or somewhere like that,
and wait for a train to take me away,
Northern line north bound,
to Tooting Broadway,
and each morning the same at 6 o clock,
I get off the line early at
the Embankment stop,
and wait on the platform an hour to two,
for my favourite memento
I have left of you.
From 6am to 8 or 9,
I listen for the words,
which will always be mine.
Five years have dragged by and I'm trying to cope,
this dingy old platform,
my one shred of hope.
So I wring my hands and stare at the map,
and close my eyes,
and try to relax,
then your voice rings out with ease,
your perfect voice,
"mind the gap please"
by Ellen Harris
mind the gap
Ellen is a 21 year old History of Art student. Born in the darkest depths of rural mid Wales, her art and poetry is influenced as much by the tremors of city life as it is by her three favourite ladies, Charlotte Mew, Amy Lowell and Wendy Cope. Ellen hopes to one day have a published anthology all of her own.