Arlene Weiner: In Dreams I Ride a Bus

Because a bus is a house of many windows

Because it carries light through dark streets

and shade through hot streets

Because it is safety between

the sadness of work

and the sadness of home

Because it embraces strangers’ privacies

where the woman driving

chats with a child-sized woman behind her

a woman with pony-pied skin

rubs scented oil into blue gums

the pierced girl gives me a seat

Because it arrives or never arrives

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