Steep steps off the platform, 
on a re-railed trip,
A lad lifts my bag: 
my sudden short stair blip
Is an unstepped-signage 
of being infirm,
(On journeys my walking-aid 
also informs).

I once held doors wide, 
for the fading greyed few,
I am now a member 
of the stick-crazed crew:
Entrance and exit - 
no longer shoulder-shoved,
Now cared for by strangers, 
in dignified love.