Poem: Bus Ride

Please let it be, that it’s a joke,
played perfectly on April first.

Because standing at a bus stop,
I see a couple, breaking up.

Even in the dim moody light,
of a streetlamp, and the headlights,
of various cars hurrying home.
They look beautiful. Together.

But she takes one bus.
He’s waiting for another.
He sort of sighs and catches,
my eye and my bus.
Gets off at London Bridge.

And I am left, picking
up their carelessly strewn pieces.

9 Comments

Filed under Poetry and Fiction

9 Responses to Poem: Bus Ride

  1. that was deeply moving, nehavish.

  2. Vijesh

    That was beautiful.. :)

  3. brilliant! i could just see them break-up from here!
    very well written :-)

  4. Nice one Neha, concise and precise

  5. Eavesdropping on others’ conversations again? Tut tut.. :-P

    This is why people in London avoid looking at others. Really. There is no private space. Paper thin walls in houses, sharp ears on bus stops.

  6. You know, I have not been able to appreciate any poetry other than that of Ogden Nash, but your poems are extremely moving and paints a lovely picture (literally!). Hats off!

  7. Your poem has a great flow. It is simple and unoriginal, but not campy or cliche. I really enjoyed it.

  8. brilliant the way u choose subjects for ur verses…

  9. I so enjoy these moving yet simple poems from you. Lovely writing!