The Wrong Bus Stop

Yellow and white edged in rusted chrome–
“Bluebird” written on their sides- they wait
like a bright beaded necklace threaded together
by bus drivers, - I know one waits for me there
with his gray paintbrush mustache, Seahawks
ball cap, red flannel short sleeve under a leather vest who knows my name,
grins and teases me about boys-
parked beneath the hill-
the spot where my brother
slipped some rainy afternoon;
see him clearly, slinging his back pack away
to find natural balance,
deny a law and triumph, how he stood there, grinning as if he had conquered them all,
yet the spotted gatherings around him had missed the event as they laughed and shared the senseless yet intriguing stories of youth
while in shadowed corners,
where teachers won’t see,
a click of tough freshmen
smoke – stifling coughs until
they have it right.

I stand with English Lit and Psychology textbooks –
along with that paperback of “A Brave New World”
I swore to burn if my teacher required it . . .which he did and I wish I had torched - drag at my back, stuffed in
with some pop-top can of microwave spaghetti,
Shasta Root Beer and cheap white plastic spoon –
still in its plastic wrap- wishing it were still the beaten
peanut butter and jam sandwiches of yesterday;
yet a blacktop chasm with speeding dashes of color
blink out my view, scare back sound until sliver and blue
panels blank it all out and I step up, punched card
outstretched – one more hardly matters in the pattern
of holes – then stumble to an orange plastic seat
in a corner where I sit and wonder if I’ll ever adapt –
clutching my Jansport canvas shield – watching
uneasily as a young, bleached blonde, beaded teen
stares down at an infant in her arms who won’t stop
crying, as a little girl tugs at her jacket and chews
on her dark braid.

This bus is blind, – age, color or dreams – it only sees green
paper and minted tokens; it loves the teens that left school
for the real world as soon as the cops stopped chasing as much
as the old nurse by the window with a Harlequin and an
impatience for retirement.