Service Station

Service Station

A Poem by Hippo

Observational scribblings


Sitting in the inconspicuous cocoon of my car, looking through the windscreen;

Watching cars and people hurry past, wondering where they are going and where they have been?


Parking attendants hovering around;

They seem to materialise out of nowhere, without even making a sound.


A Spectrum of colour from vehicles parked side by side, like sardines in a can;

Coaches, cars, minibuses, lorries and the odd white van.


Some people are in groups, others walk alone;

People stood huddled under the canopy of the services having a ciggy and others on the phone.


They migrate back to their cars, coaches, buses and vans;

Not knowing what to expect when they leave, clear roads or traffic jams?


I sit here quietly, still looking around;

The only things i can hear are my engine ticking over and heater making a comforting whirring sound.


Watching others intently, making notes on my iPhone;

I finish my coffee, buckle up and continue my journey home....



Finally getting home after sitting in traffic for 2 hours, that's the M6 for you!

© 2010 Hippo

Author's Note

Anything you consider wouldnhelp me improve. Thanks

My Review

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Not my usual cup of tea, but a well-written poem nonetheless.

Good style and form. Descriptions and atmosphere work very well.

One typo in the sixth stanza with a lowercase "I".

Sorry I can't write you up a big review, I just don't have much to say.

Overall, I enjoyed the poem.

Posted 8 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 8, 2010
Last Updated on February 9, 2010
Tags: Service station, people, cars, lorries



Birmingham, West Midlands, United Kingdom

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