Poetry: On the Late Bus

ahead of me

on the late bus to Bristol

the woman leaned her head

upon the rain-smeared window

and surrendered herself to sleep

I was reading,

no, fighting through

a novel an ex had given me,

when grace feathered my hands

wisps of a ponytail,

the ends of ten golden inches,

kissed my book-cradling fingers

I held pose

as if meditating

until her awakening

-Tony Press, Right Hand Pointing

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2 thoughts on “Poetry: On the Late Bus

  1. Tony Press February 11, 2015 at 4:10 pm Reply

    Well, then, hello! Thanks for sharing my poem “On the Late Bus.” I’m happy to see it here.

    Like

  2. Claire February 11, 2015 at 4:52 pm Reply

    You’re welcome! I really love it, it’s so crisp with such a strong mood.

    Like

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