Bus Rider

You think a lot. Always have a point of view
irritated when someone says,
“What do you mean?”

So you listen more than you speak
observe more than most people see
and ponder what differences it makes.

When people talk you tune in
surprised at how much banality
receives air time, wondering why bother?

You’d rather repeat what inspires you,
little vignettes about people you meet,
insights you gather from your observations.

The story about the rider on a city bus,
who shared her meal, with one mentally ill
while coursing through the city streets

was more profound than how you had
to layer your clothing to fight the cold
walk for miles until it became dark
needed to sleep because your feet ached.

You have no idea what you’ll do tomorrow

floating has become a way of life

never knowing where you’ll land

you go on, and on, and on.