Pilgrim

Part of a recovered collection of print-outs, pieces that seemed lost to a dead hard disk.

For most
a bus is a means
A to B
for him
no passport
no payment
journey itself
is a pilgrimage
destination a cipher
traversing the alphabet
sharing wisdom
each passenger
touched,

The birds
have nested
in his beard
and whispered
just he heard
and though his voice
is loud, his word
recedes above
the evening crowd
his choice
that only one
receives
his madness
truth that most
deceives.