Bus Ride

he is a guest in another beings dream
a stranger sleeps behind his eyes

when he thinks about this
he shivers and turns to the window
letting himself be distracted by the dusty fields 
the wind cranking farms

the bus is half-full
empty seats are occupied by the soon to be born
the soon to be dead and those in transition

hinterlands overlap and leak

a young man yet to be conceived
stares about him thinking he is in a movie
people speak a language known only to hollow trees
and wooden owls
there are no subtitles for his state of mind

passengers cling to the long straps of their thoughts
as the coach sways

some occupants are uncertain
if whether they have a real ticket for a real life
others think they may have purchased a ticket
with no destination
they fidget in their seats
wonder why the trip is taking so long

under spinning rubber
the ground sinks away 
while an inverse sky 

                            rises

poetryfree verse

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