Departures

Departure boards and exit barriers,
their sadness is palpable. I watch her
walk the concourse down to platform 3,
her final wave, the mouthed, 'Bye Mum.'
The traffic lights are blurred by silent tears.
I push past youngsters, their heads bobbing,
plugged into their own worlds
and past a mother with two small children.
I used to walk like that, one on either side,
like dogs on leads, straining to escape.