the packed in trips all solitary
these laden creatures with their loads
and burning full with stories
the open windows where musty air
can sneak into our lungs
the crowded summer sticky heat
& ever wagging tongues
but to be inside my head and so
observing all that is
to drink up whats surrounding me
an open heart to give
& paper perched upon my lap
empty and exciting
was to record this heart with pen
to chisel it in writing
& a good old bike is such a gift
this freedom flies inside
to pedal hard, to sweat, & swerve
my metal friend to drive
but there will never be a space
for book & bike combined
& so i'll love the crowded bus
for all I've left behind.
1 comment:
So true! These laden creatures will always be more sociable than metal friends.
I miss the buzzing atmosphere of a busride. Either way, from or to school. Always loved it. Sometimes I only went to school because of what the ride entailed.
:)
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