Light Echoes

Rushing up the road with shoes untied
and hair still wet from the shower,
just in time to see the bus pull away.

Late, again -

sitting in the cold, alone
at an empty bus shelter, 
shivering, waiting for the next one,
or for death.

Awoken by spring and life:
cars scatter dust in their wake,
birds leave their nest for the first time,
or the last, who can say?

An old woman approaches,
over half a century of memory etched into her face:
she checks the timetable and sighs,
'Just missed one,' I say,
'It's always the way,' she replies.

It is.

We sit silently as light echoes
through the trees with young leaves,
watching innumerable cars pass and clouds change;
for two minutes, everything is peaceful, and free -
free time, that's what waiting is,
there's naught that can be done while waiting
except to wait. It's stress-free,
and it's nice.

-ndru

Author's Note

For more, check ndru-sometimes-wins.tumblr.com - I update it daily.