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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1252682
wrote this one morning when i cut classes to go home because i was sick
BUS RIDE
by Peter Alistair

Let me be common:
one of you
so I can shut my eyes,
rest my head

on soft-cushioned seat--
the bosom of oblivion.
No one to bother me
(having paid my fare.)

There are miles still
before I step off where
yet again I disappear
as pedestrians disappear:

                    it's 10 a.m. but I'm headed home.
                    On this bus I see
                    you, too, are alone.
© Copyright 2007 peter alistair (marlonborreo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1252682-Bus-Ride