Thursday, 17 March 2011

Like a Stranger at a Bus Stop

I sat in traffic today on my way to a meeting and watched for a few minutes, the interaction of a couple at a bus stop. At least, I imagined they were a couple. They didn't actually speak but he looked, she glared, they moved apart. He looked again. The bus came, and pulled away. He had gone but I could see her walking away from the bus stop. This is what I imagined he though as he sat on the bus, alone.

Like a stranger at a bus stop you looked at me,
Your rage obvious in your clenched shoulders,
Your silent mouth,
Your telepathic tantrum drumming in my head,
'don't make a fuss, don't embarrass yourself'.
Your eyes narrow like a lobster,
'You are less to me than dust'.
I open my mouth, to plead, to reason
But you are gone,
In a waft of perfumed air,
Face averted,
Like a stranger at a bus stop.

No comments:

Post a Comment