Kansas City Brunch
We were at an Oklahoma halt
Sitting on a grey hound bus
Second hand smoke and dust
Just when I thought it was, oh too much
A painter in ballerina slippers
Singing her way onto our stop
An artist with a pen and a pad
A worried free smile is all she had
Strangers on a bus ride
From Oklahoma to Kansas ruins
She rode with me
The theory of a fallen city
We were strangers
On a Jefferson line
Sitting two seats apart
In her notebook she's relaxed at ease
Visions of a passenger before she sneezed
Sitting close
Gazed upon a fading ghost
In my slacks and proper ware
She offered me her apple and cheese
A scented breeze from her unclean jeans
Ginseng and evergreen leaves
I took her hands
Junction city, we could barely stand
Reassuring I sang my songs to her
She sat close, her toes uncovered and pure
How lovely was this simple allure
Oh Kansas city
She finally made it
Missouri head lights
In a southern sun
A city sitting on fallen lungs
Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009
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