bus poem

Spokane in the middle of the night
The stars
Dim bus light
Brightness all around still burns
Vast, before the ground and back drops of mountains
The flipped suv
Belongings spread on the side of the high way.
Everyone silent and watching by
Grizzly train car stories are over heard, unable to ignore
Then there is the Detroit man
At the Missoula stop
2 hour layover
With a hole in his heart
Heavy his mind must have been the 3 days prior traveling to meet up with me on our same embark to west coast
He calls it home
I can’t call it anything out of name yet
But the hole was wide and deep and it poured out at me
Restless nights trapped with no outlet for grieving he was feeling
Shock and utter disbelief
2 months
I’m just there listening
Guilty, I cannot feel his pain
they wouldn’t want anyone to
And deep in his hole he knew it to
But it was still there, gaping
bus poem

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