|
||||||||
|
Scenes From Bus Rides Home #1In The Street Light's Light A man stood in the streetlight's light, There in the pouring rain, His wide brimmed hat pulled down to let The drops fall off again. His coat was long, its collar up, Its pockets held his hands. Into the darkened night he stared- I wondered of his plans. Did he await a bus to go To some other town To meet a lover, secret like, A new job to be found? Was he a foreign agent who Through loopholes came to spy, Transmitting data back to home With little cameras' eyes? A worker on his way to work, The graveyard shift, till eight, A player of a team, which would, For his arrival, wait? Oh, the thoughts in seconds split As riding here am I. I'll never know- he stands there still- As I go passing by. W.C.Hull © 2003 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Send Feedback/Comments
|
|
|||||||
