This is a poem partly inspired by John Updike's brilliant, 'Ex Basketball Player' and partly based on truth. I love Updike's style, banal and brilliant and I tried to fit that style a little here, I don't know if it's worked, but it's my contribution for today:
There are no wires, not here, not now,
and we sit, not talking, not aware
of time passing.
They came across county lines and sit planted, awaiting news.
He reads you the paper, which you
never did when you were awake,
still, your eyes twitch when they mention Diana.
I want to be like Rabbit and
leave here, back on a train, escape,
instead I turn the page and think
about anywhere not here, not now...