Passing Chance

At the moment the flying fish go by on the side of the bus with commercial paint you tip your coffee cup and river the cafe's table and chair At the moment the coffee finds the street with you laughing outward with palms in the air the wind swoops up a red umbrella right out of an old woman's hand At the moment the umbrella breaks it's silk in a crash on a rusty old iron fence a child reveals a chocolate grin to the wonderment of her mother At the moment confetti is wiped off the face with a wettened finger from the mother's mouth a screeching of wheels holding tires ignites and sends out a shower of sparks At the moment the sparks snap into the air and the car grinds the ground in attempt for speed the bus with the flying fish slows down to let one passenger off At the moment the bus resumes it's haul with me on the sidewalk bidding goodbye I turn on my feet and walk back up the road in an awkard attempt just to meet you.