I'm waiting for the moment
when the train crosses the Border
and home creeps closer
at seventy miles an hour.
I dismiss the last four days
and their friendly strangers
into the past
that grows bigger every minute.
The train sounds as urgent as I am,
it says home and home and home.
I light a cigarette
and sit smiling in the corner.
Scotland, I rush towards you
into my future that,
every minute,
grows smaller and smaller.