The Bus Stop
Standing and waiting at the bus
stop
The weather worn bench sits accompanying
strangers
Newspaper pages escort the
directionless wind
Empty cans litter the designated
post
Urine marks the vagrant’s nightly
home
Suits, dresses and jeans adorn
the pedestrian walk
Ghostly people heading to and fro
Dusk will assuredly mark their
return
Streetlights flashing red, green
and in between
Metal monsters stop and go with
each changing flicker
Merchants peddling their goods to
the morning rush
The smell of coffee in the air
No smiles, no hellos exchanged
Amidst all this confusion
humanity is speechless
Just in time - the bus has
arrived.
Thank you,
Joseph Pede
Joseph Pede
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