Stations

[paidiraiompair]

All they saw was the crying wheelchair in the "accessible" space on the train.

Caught in their own  relief of making the connection, they missed 

the complaints of the woman beside her who wanted the double space 

for her own larger power chair,

or the inadequate "accommodation" for being able to ride with only a wobbled table

as a constraint.  
Accessibility isn't one size fits all.  

Those in the car didn't see the painful rush to board

where there was no ramp and crawling was all there was

or the strain of bruised hands beaten in the mad dash.

No one took note of being left on the curbside with the luggage

as inanimate as suitcases, 

being talked over while frustrated voices demanded in PC terms

"where are your handlers?"

There was no connection with the unkind words of exhausted companions 

apathetic to the shaming tones of "*I* don't need a cab" 

blind to attempts to carry on, apologize, be useful,  

keep up, 

keep quiet, 

keep going, 

keep smiling.

Now surrounded by pity, puzzlement, and exasperation 

vainly hiding her face with only her shaking hands, 

exposure overwhelming attempts to subside the tears...

She was a girl crying on the train, and no one got it.