Life Rides a Bus


Somewhere
In between the dark lines
Of ordinary days

Sometimes
Standing at the back door
Of Our practiced actions

Never
Neglecting to whisper
“N’er too young, N’er too bright”

Ever
Ready to remind us
Of cause and affected

This night
There woke a young mother
Once of two now of one

Today
There will nap an old man
Not to wake up again

To run
Is the burden of fools
An impossible race

To hide
Is a naive comfort
A blissless ignorance

Beauty
In rare simplicity
For all but one answer

Terror
For there is no control
Blinded by the sublime

Justice
Not in the choice of souls
But in the final act

Righteous
Product of unkept time
And why ever not now?

Touching
A rich widow at lunch
A poor man’s son at school

The End
Guides the path of fast cars
And death rides a bus too