Just like in a movie you once saw
or at least,
you think you saw,
you are at a railway station
in the twilight of the day.
Platform 12.
Not fog but a heat haze fading
And you have your hand pressed up against the perspex
her face tilted down to yours.
But as the train begins to move off
the speakers sound out clearly
each word
“No running on this platform”
-
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Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
This is a very fine poem. All the emotion comes through the craft. I’m going to link to it from my link farm, Poems Worth Your Time
http://poemsworthyourtime.wordpress.com. If you don’t want that, just let me know, and I’ll remove the link. I want my readers to see this poem, if possible.
That’s absolutely fine with me.
Flattered.