Bus Stop
Ray Samuc
Obscured below the surface
of day, and blinking rain
from eyes wearied to a blurred
focus—the bottleneck at the
bus stop is noiseless below the
opened sky—silent prayers
for emptiness, looking for make
believe traces of you, slows
the hurrying damp chill meant
for shoulders, and shines some light
into the dark corner of home.
Ray Samuc
Obscured below the surface
of day, and blinking rain
from eyes wearied to a blurred
focus—the bottleneck at the
bus stop is noiseless below the
opened sky—silent prayers
for emptiness, looking for make
believe traces of you, slows
the hurrying damp chill meant
for shoulders, and shines some light
into the dark corner of home.