She tries to shrink back...
Hide in the open with
Audible music shielding her
From the sound of the outside.

She is unaware of the
Significance of where she sits,
And of the memories she is
Ushering to the forefront of
My mind; all those
Inglorious moments when
I showed the world how much
Growing up I still had to do.

These recollections divert me
From her disappearance into
The late night shadows of
The contemptibly familiar
Flyover in the closing minutes
Of Thursday's drama. Her
Exit from my life makes me
Wonder if bus journeys are
A metaphor for life
Rather than simply
A people watcher's paradise.

* * *

The roads are empty as
The miles to home melt away
In the dying heat of the day,
And the city in which I stood
Not eight hours ago seems
Scarcely believable.

The shimmering of the
Summer haze leaves an almost
Surreal aftertaste in the eyes;
Stones are made ephemeral
And the harsh hues of the
Bricks jar against the
Temporarily gentle contours.

Perhaps I can assign to her
This ethereal feeling,
Since all I see now is
An empty seat, glimpsed through
The air she once breathed.

06/23/2005

Posted on 06/24/2005
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince