Monday, November 15, 2010

A view from a bus seat


The outside world spinning in streams of green and grey
Stretching from left to right,
Beats of noise vibrating in ear holes
With strong smells of perfume
Curling its way up the aisle.
Hello mother with screaming child
Running endlessly through women with frowns
And big overcoats tucking in an identity.
Windows open. Windows close.
Hot air blown through the holes in shoes
That stand waiting for the stop.
Bells tinkle and large groups mingle
In and out of the stripy seats,
Covered in silhouettes of scarf’s and hats
Dreaming of summer beaches and boat houses.
Goodbye driver with fake smile;
How you must ponder as you spin the wheel,
Whether there is more to this stretch of road and life
Then grumpy abuses and baby prams?
How long before the clock ticks till your stop
And you can sit in the back seat, quite free
From red and green jams,
While sipping and slurping your steaming cup of tea.

By Catherine Hare.

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