A simple corner seat

With a cold facade

And a flimsy spinal support.

Bolted to the distressed floor.

Meeting on a whim

In the middle of December

On a rickety old train

Getting to know a stranger.

As years go by

You’re used and bruised

Wounded by dates before me,

Nearly broken.

Even so, you’re taken now

By another temporary tenant

Unknown to me

But to you, it’s standard.