A 32 line poem written for the Writer's Cramp Challenge 8/20/19.
Night Bus Drift
Worked all day, now the night-shift beckons,
overtime overdue, my boss he reckons.
Can't say 'no', can't afford to let him down;
I'll take the night bus through the town.
The bus starts crowded, people over-flowing,
but they soon disembark, go where they're going.
Soon it's quiet and my mind does drift
taking advantage of this tranquil gift.
The sky is dark, but for the twinkling stars,
and I'm blotting them out - all the passing cars.
I'm far from home when the button I press;
it's like watching another, I have to confess.
The bus gives a lurch as it draws to a stop,
and opens it's doors for off me to drop.
I step outside but a I don't touch the ground
for up in the sky is where I'm now bound.
I'll take a step and I quickly rise,
up into the heavens with their lunar prize.
Stepping-stone stars are now guiding my way;
the blanket of black invites me to stay.
I'll take it all in, as my gaze is drawn down
to the scurrying of humans in a tiny toy town.
I could stay up here and I could dance with the moon
while the stars twinkle out their astral tune.
But instead I am falling and I land with a jolt
as the bus pulls up for its final halt.
I've missed my stop, or so it would seem,
a terminus ride to a terminal dream.
Hunched up and resigned to my long walk home
at least it's not one I'll be taking on my own;
for the moon shines down and lights my travels
as that fantasy dreamscape, it now unravels.