Waiting At The Train Station.

The blue shirt is not you,
nor the striding woman.
The tight face and make up would not suit,
and your family is grown.
You would not hold the hand of another man
so that is not you, and you will not be sad
or walking lonely on the street
so that is not you.
You are not homeless or careless,
when you come, you will be you.

Waiting for Jane at the station in Clermont Ferrand, watching the world while drinking coffee.
Seems like an age now.