on the bus, musing on faces

what attracts and why

what does not, and why not


a man with a moustache 

notices me looking at him, i look away

an elderly woman, skin


even darker than mine, has the look

of someone who has ridden this line for eons

though i've never seen her


there are young women on the bus

none notice me

not obviously, i notice them


whatever it is that forms 

in the gut or heart

which is the first inkling


of something deeper, doesn't form

just people on the bus

going, coming, thinking thoughts


no one appears perturbed

by what might await at their stop

i'm not, when i alight


i begin the walk up the hill

thinking of dinner and maryann

how we'll spend the evening, unperturbed


not wondering if i'll ride the bus

and sit in my cubicle

and be, one day, more like


the elderly dark-skinned woman than not

there are worse things

having a moustache, for one




maryann is staying with me

while she recuperates

from minor surgery, has spent the day in bed


sleepy and a little dopey

i make tea, sit with her, we talk about

what attracts and why


and why not, it is a mystery

and i think rare

attraction is not enough




maryann is a cat person

i'm confident she would prefer her cat

by her bedside than me


i consider mewing, insistently

consider curling up

on her lap and padding her soft tummy


the urge passes, i ask her

what she would like for dinner

a little later we are enjoying pesto pasta


i'm having wine, she is on codine

we're good, and if it weren't for the care-giving

i would like to go dancing


or just go to a bar for drinks

i have another glass of vino, we play

speed scrabble, it's no match


codine will do that, we watch a movie

with marisa tomei and hugh grant

then beddy-bye for both of us, i think of the people


on the bus, how they go up down, and the wheels

go round and round, but mostly

we sit quietly, semblances of ourselves




i wake, hearing her moan

something isn't right

we uber to the emergency room


hours later we are back home

almost daylight, with a script for antibiotic

i stay home, tuesday passes


at first slowly, then more pleasantly

as the antibotics kick in, she is feeling better

she skypes with the woman


taking care of her cat, all's well

and really, isn't that the point, all's well

i mean, relatively, for now, it's what we have





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 222 times
Written on 2018-05-24 at 13:32

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antoniya katelieva-wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Such a lovely poem and poor Maryann hope she is getting well soon. My prayers are with her. Well done Jim

Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
I enjoyed reading this tale very much. It's the way you write that brings such peace to the reader. A ride on the bus, wondering what attracts, looking at the fellow riders, the woman who looked like she rode often. Looking after Marianne, her codeine, her concern about the cat. The uber ride, the emergency room, and all is well after all. I like the uncomplicated life. Good write.

Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
I like this sequence a lot. (Am tempted to say, "You had me at 'marisa tomei'!") And I like the traces of our modern world: uber and skype as verbs, as we all use them now! A good read all round, and an engaging story.