Poems

Anonymous

On the bus watching the lives
Sharing a schedule
The cycle of everyday people.

Out the window pastel houses blur
Wet grey sky
White ocean.

First the kids
Then their parents
Starting their eight hour worlds.

There’s a boy on the bus
alone
Looking down
Hugging his backpack
He glances at a girl.

There’s a girl on the bus
alone
Looking down
Hugging her backpack
She glances at a boy.

Dusty, monotoned kids
Mousy and neutral
Quietly they are there
Bearing the forlorn presence of each other
Occupying space that was once their shared cocoon.

They hide their faces and
Adjust their grip
on everything they hold
They are far from each other
A white ocean in the aisleway.

They float with everyone else
Glances inflating their life vests
Eyes sending out lifeboats
Hoping that one will sail back to them
With someone in it.

The bus stops
They move with the rest of them
It’s time to go to school.

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