On a Train

On a Train

The book I’ve been reading
rests on my knee. You sleep.

It’s beautiful out there –
fields, little lakes and winter trees
in February sunlight,
every car park a shining mosaic.

Long, radiant minutes,
your hand in my hand,
still warm, still warm.

from If I Don’t Know (Faber and Faber, 2001), © Wendy Cope 2001, used by permission of the author

Wendy Cope in the Poetry Store

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