As you may know - in fact, as you may be tired of hearing - my youngest is a writer and poet. She has done a series she calls her Bus Stop Poems, and she did give me permission to post one of them. I enjoy most of her poetry, and this is no exception, although there are a certain few that are dear to my heart from her earlier work. But this is the one she gave me permission for, and it's a sort of rainy day poem, so I will brighten things up a bit with a couple of pictures of the beautiful daffodils I bought at Shop Rite yesterday.
Bus Stop Poem No. 7
As the bus pulled to the curb in a break in the rain, did they carry
their laughter on board? Did the driver, hearing it, loosen his brow,
look down at the music of the three friends' boots
stepping, starting, stopping, turning as they held out transfers
and jaunted down the narrow aisle? Did the woman with the cane
in the front seat feel the air warm as the joke continued? -
the young men passing her, one reaching out to pat the shoulder
of the second in front of him, a soft chuckling trailing them?
Did the third man, walking a few paces behind shaking his head
and stuffing his hands in his pockets, aim his grin at the floor
like an apology? Did she catch sight of it nonetheless?
Did she see something familiar in his face? Like a boy
she'd kissed, years ago? The flush of his cheeks,
the crease at the corner of his eyes? ...
And alone, afterwards she'd fallen,
laughing, into the paperwhites that bloomed next to the concrete steps,
until their plump stems snapped and the thick juice bled
onto her hands, the fragrance of the petals staining her sleeves,
her sister finding her there, damp and giddy, late for dinner...
Did the old woman stare ahead out the bus window? Think she smelled narcissus
through the dingy glass?
I do like her Bus Stop series. Her poems 'have appeared in "The Anthology of Monterey Bay Poets," "Porter Gulch Review," "Homestead Review," "MotherVerse," mamazine.com and literarymama.com, among other publications', as cited in the newspaper review of an upcoming poetry reading she will do this week.
I know, I am probably prejudiced in her favor. She tells me, "Oh, you like everything." But I don't seem to be alone in my opinion. Of all her writing, I think that it's her blog that is least consistently good. But that would be natural enough, since our blogs often reflect our mood of the day, and she does indulge in a rant every so often - as most of us do. She's pretty good at rants and mood swings. But, yes, I love her blog too, especially when she writes about her son. 3000 miles is a long distance away for a grandmom, so I eat it up. At the moment he seems to be obsessed with the President. When she was on the phone recently, he demanded to know if she was talking to Mr. Obama. And he asked her if they could put Mr. Obama's photo up on the family picture wall. I can't wait until the end of March, when they will be coming for a visit.
