Random Reflections

The Bus

Each day I pull out from my house, signal left

and barge into a busy life.

The first stop is work, and 40 people pile in.

They offer a pittance for my services and do not smile as they leave.

My partner and kids radio,

booking scheduled pick ups and drop offs;

hockey; their friends; the cleaners,

They don't bother paying, they don't even clean their shoes as they walk over me.

Occasionally my parents check in,

My mother, divorced for three years, separated since child #2, 

looks at me critically

"How many miles do you have on you now?" she asks,

"You'll need a complete overhaul if you want any fares."

I turn on the windshield wipers.

At least my absentee father's infrequent visits only cost me gas money,

My mother's leave dirt on the glass that I can no longer wipe away.

My route does not change.

It holds no surprises, joy, or meaning.

There is no time for necessary repairs.

There is a major intersection ahead and the light is changing.

There is time to stop,

but I am not sure if I will.