Autobiography at an Air-Station

Delay, well, travellers must expect 
Delay. For how long? No one seems to know. 
With all the luggage weighed, the tickets checked, 
It can't be long . . . We amble to and fro,
Sit in steel chairs, buy cigarettes and sweets 
And tea, unfold the papers. Ought we to smile,
Perhaps make friends? No: in the race for seats 
You're best alone. Friendship is not worth while.

Six hours pass: if I'd gone by boat last night 
I'd be there now. Well, it's too late for that.
The kiosk girl is yawning. I feel staled,
Stupefied, by inaction - and, as light 
Begins to ebb outside, by fear, I set 
So much on this Assumption. Now it's failed