Ordinary Bus Ride

Posted by St. Fallen on October 15, 2011 · 4 Comments 

Ordinary bus ride. Noon sun
melts the skin off my back,
gently dripping
along the seat. Far from
inconspicuous couple seated
in front of me.

An old man enters, climbs aboard
one hand on the rail, the other
holding precarious strings attached
to boxes with holes punched through.

A coin turns
between his hand and the conductor,
as the silent bustle of engine, horn
and street give way to the frantic
squeaks of cardboard feet.

Boxes of little birds, chirp much
to the drivers annoyance. Yet
from this point the journey is smooth,
as though the sound were to calm
his gear-swinging hand,
and brake-stomping feet, steering
to the lull of their tweet,
tweet, tweet.

All buses should carry birds.

Filed under poetry, The Abyss · Tagged with birds, bus, commute, poem, poetry