Transit
I sit upon a slickly red covered seat,
Across; closed eyes, computer gazing, blank faces.
Red squared environmental bags,
back packs on hunched-back backs.
A distance traveled on my cushions,
has come to a halt,
doors mouths opening,
waiting for my entrance ---
I stand sneaking quick peaks at absent faces....
Copyright © Nishayel Williams | Year Posted 2012
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