Joy Walked With Me in London

Joy walked with me in London,
she took my hand as we stepped off the train
and guided me past the giant Christmas tree
reaching all the way up to the glazed ironwork roof.

She studied the Underground map with me,
her finger tracing a route to Piccadilly Circus and the big
toy store, from the soaring angels of Regent Street
to the carol singers shaking tins in Trafalgar Square.

Down to Victoria Embankment Gardens and Big Ben,
then back up to the red lanterns of Chinatown
and along cosmic Carnaby Street, where Jupiter and Saturn
hang large and bright overhead,

finishing at ice skating in Mayfair.
“You want the Bakerloo Line,” the station assistant said,
cheerfully. “Merry Christmas!”
Joy walked with me in London, she never let go,

up and down the escalators, through noisy tunnels and
along busy streets with their grand buildings lit up
with magic. By the time I was swaying sleepily
in my carriage seat home, my new fire engine

tucked under my arm, I thought I saw Joy
shine like a Regent Street angel.
Then she drifted down the carriage,
switching on every smile.