Bus Stop by Elliot Engberg We sit in wait for those we know the drips and drops of rainy water splash for whence the clouds begin way up above it never fails to set a chill within . on wheels of rubber long since inflated always behind the schedule defined so we remain on the cold bench outside waiting ever watching for it to show . now it finally comes around in sight we stand and step in front sift through pockets rain dampening our shoulders coins clinking we board the bus and sit again waiting Page 13
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