Precious cargo

On the move from one land to another, this last week
Got immersed in a flurry of images from the past
The sinking-in was cut short.
I was called back to the first land. Urgent, they said. 
For my own image-making this time.

I was tired, I found my seat, waited for the train to start its rumbling

A young mother sat opposite
I smiled a tired smile.

She left me to watch over him after ten minutes of my sitting there
I was a little shook up. People hide their shoes in the trains sometimes, you know?
So much responsibility handed over because she trusted something
What? What did she estimate?

He was too little to speak
He just kept looking with those eyes at me
I couldn't help but look back
Precious cargo.

She came back and he looked away, 
she said he always thought she wouldn't come back.