Friday, January 30, 2009

Bus Stop -A Poem by Me

At 5:17Am
Thin and willowy

She perches on the frosted bench.

Her long maple syrup colored hair whips out from a knitted beret

tickling the shelter glass behind her.

Dark, almost black eyes

alert as none should be at this hour

watch as the sun bleeds out into the sky.
Her hands delve deeper into her overcoat.
Legs bouncing up and down to generate warmth

Her black high heels click

like little chisels on the icy sidewalk.

Her back straight; and arms tensed, unmoving
she lets the wind harass her

until her cheeks blend with the color of her lips.

Lips that are crystallized by frozen breath
And involuntary tears
slide out of her eyes and straight to her hairline
as the freezing wind rushes past
making this whole city miserable.

But with the heater blowing full force

and those bright pink lips
sighing thanks in my direction
as she flashes her bus pass and settles into a warm plastic seat

even with the wind
trying to board my bus at every stop
the cold cannot penetrate me

2 comments:

  1. i like this. i had to read it about 3 times, but i think i finally get it.

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  2. Yeah you have to read it all as one run on sentence almost.

    ReplyDelete