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