Letters To Emily

Inspiration

I ride the bus all day on the weekends. I people watch and take in the city of Paterson. You can always find inspiration if you look hard enough. When I spot something notable, I do just that. I note it. I create pictures with my poetry. I paint with my words. I'm typically one of the first people on the bus and the last off the bus in the evenings. The bus driver is a friendly and quiet man. He gives me a sweet and boyish smile in the mornings. For someone that takes in the scenery, you'd think I'd know his name by now. I don't and honestly, it's because I have a bit of a crush on him. We've never said more than good morning to each other.

I sit in the back of the bus and I note all the different folks that board. There's old ladies, single mothers with their children, blue collar working men, students, and the list goes on and on. The view is incredibly diverse and beautiful. I can see expressions of the down trodden, tired, weak, and weary. I also get glimpses of joy, young love, and hopefulness. Some conversations grab my attention if they are loud enough. The view expands outside the bus. There's a wealthy woman getting into her Lexus. Where is she headed to? There is a group of young high school age kids huddled around laughing outside a burger joint in the parking lot.It's September. The school year is brand new and full of possibilities. There are homeless folks pan handling. What is their pain? What led them to this part of their story? The weather is cooling slightly. Every day is more mild than the last.
I am very much a romantic in the broad and general sense of the word. I surround myself with beauty and knowledge. I believe in the best of people. Some might view me as naive, but I'm just extremely open minded. I feel that attribute comes in handy when working in a bookstore. When you constantly expand your mind, you can help others along hopefully to expand theirs. The world is a beautiful and ugly place, but I believe in seeking out the beautiful things and letting them inspire me.
The sun is starting to set on this September day. The five o'clock crowd is thinning out. I happen to look up and spot the bus driver's eyes locking with my own in his rear view mirror. He looks away and back out to the red traffic light.
I suddenly feel this warmth rising within me. It feels like coming home for Christmas. I have no intentions of returning to Arizona for Christmas. My mom is busy catering to her uppity friends and my dad is constantly at the office. A true corporate law family. Yes, I come from money, but I've decided to make my own way. Dad sends me money once a month and I put it in a savings account for a rainy day. Sometimes I'll dip into it to make ends meet, but I'm doing alright. I graduated from NYU with a degree in English Literature and History. My parents wanted me to go to law school or to become a teacher or professor. That type of stuff is not for me. I need to be free. I refuse to be a slave to society and locked away day in and day out. What a miserable way to live. I like my job and I like having the freedoms to run away at a moment's notice. That's probably why I'm still single. Mom so desperately wants me to settle down with someone from school since I've chosen this path. I am one who wants to organically fall in love, if I'm going to fall in love at all.
The closest thing I've ever felt to love is the exchange that occurred just moments ago. At least, I think that's what it feels like. It's something different than lust. It's a familiarity and some type of palpable connection I'm feeling towards this bus driver. Maybe I'll just shake it off and go along my way. It's the last stop of the night. I get of on Main St. just in front of the Walgreens.
"Excuse me, miss?", the bus driver calls to me as I reach the bottom step. I turn and look up at him whilst holding onto the railing.
"Yes?", I answer him.
"Why do you ride the bus all day on the weekend? ...If you don't mind my asking?", he asks me with truly intrigued it seems as he awaits my answer.
"I get most of my inspiration here. I write poems all day on the weekends. Why do you ask, Mr....?", I ask hanging on the Mr. to catch his name.
"My name is Paterson and I was just curious", he answers with a small smile and I feel that warm feeling again.
"Wait, Paterson like our city?", I ask thoroughly intrigued myself.
"Yeah", he replies with a nod.
"That's awesome. Nice to officially meet you Paterson. I'm Emily."
"Nice to meet you too Emily. See you tomorrow?", he asks with that same unassuming smile full of innocence and curiosity. It's disarming,  especially how his smile reaches his eyes and goodness, he has the cutest dimple on the right side of his face.
"Maybe", I reply with a smile and a shrug."I'm just gonna see where the day takes me. Have a good night Paterson"
"You too Emily", he calls after me as I step off the bus. I turn on the curb and wave. Paterson waves and shuts the doors to the bus.
I walk along the sidewalk and the breeze is pleasant tonight. There's a sense of a change coming. There's a promise hanging on that breeze. Early signs of fall flutter and scatter about my feet in shades of red, gold, orange, and brown. The red and black houndstooth challis skirt of my tank skater dress billows about my thighs and the sensation is lovely. I pull my black leather bomber jacket tighter around me as I head toward my apartment.

I hang my purse on the accessories hook inside the door of my brownstone apartment . I stroll into my bedroom and change into my black sporty straight leg sweatpants and my favorite white camisole. My soft brown waves of hair are pulled atop my head in a messy bun. I settle in on the couch with some clam chowder and warm myself up while I watch the news. Once I've finished my dinner, I grab my notebook from my purse and start on a new verse.

The Breeze
A change came on the wind today
It brought with it a sense of new
The difference spoke to me today
The leaves changed hue
It was fresh, beautiful, and awakening
I saw many things today, but none compared to you.
You saw me and nothing has been more clear
Than when my eyes connected with yours in the rear view mirror.