The Phantom Bus

She didn’t look awfully well that day

Though she never would make a fuss,

I said we should get to the hospital

That I’d travel with her on the bus.

The weather was terrible, snow on the road

And a seaborne yellow mist,

So I wrapped her well in a scarf and coat

And did my best to assist.

 

She leant on me, walked out to the stop

And we sat on the ice cold bench,

I thought for a moment she’d faint or drop

So taking the bus made sense.

The car would be hard to manage that night

For the roads were covered with ice,

I couldn’t hold her while driving the car,

But we needed a doctor’s advice.

 

The cough had got worse as the day went on

And her hanky was spattered with blood,

I prayed it was just a vessel that burst,

Not that I thought it should,

But consumption sat at the back of my mind

It was rare, but still around,

I was praying a lot, but still my head

Would cover the same old ground.

 

We watched as the lights of the bus rolled up

So dim in the mist to see,

A double-decker, we climbed aboard

It was number twenty-three.

The passengers all were grey and drab

And some of them seemed asleep,

A skeleton sat hunched up at the rear

And Kathie began to weep.

 

‘It’s only a medical student’s thing,’

I said, ‘there’s nothing to fear.’

But Kathie flinched as we walked on past,

‘Then why did he leave it here?’

She settled down in a window seat

While I sat next to the aisle,

And the bus rolled into the swirling mist

So we sat quite still for a while.

 

The lights in the bus were more than dim

And Kathie was looking grey,

While I got up at the hospital stop

Kathie was looking away.

Then suddenly I was out on the road

As the bus took off in the mist,

While Kathie stared through the window pane,

It was like she didn’t exist.

 

I ran and I ran, and chased the bus,

But I ran and ran in vain,

For the bus veered off, went over the cliffs

And vanished into the rain,

I found her there on the bus stop bench

Where we’d sat, all grey and still,

And I wept, and thought of the phantom bus

That had taken her over the hill.

 

I could swear we’d stood, and climbed on the bus,

My love, my Kathie and me,

But they said there never was such a bus

As a number twenty-three,

And I see her now in my dreams at night

As she stares through the window pane,

Of a phantom bus that takes her away,

Over the cliffs in the rain.

 

Over the cliffs on a freezing night

When she died, ice cold on the bench,

What was I thinking, I ask myself,

Where was my common sense?

Then I take some comfort to think that I

Had once been a part of us,

And travelled some of the way with her

Where she’d gone, on the phantom bus.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Devanshu Rajput]

I hope I never hop over this phantom bus, which swallowed your loved one. A eerie dark poem. But, I hope that only exists in fantasy.

Your all poems give me goosebumps. and this is not an exception.

But, I will thank you for horrifying me.

Devanshu

[Barbz]

Kathiie was suffering with the dreaded disease Tuberculosis. Not only was it destroying her life and preparing her for death, contagious as it is, it took it's toll on her love and caregiver, delivering them both to delusion and the inevitable ride on the Phantom Bus. Your poetry, dark and stained with gore at times, is usually based on a thread of truth. Very well done, as usual........Barbz

[Jerome F Knox III pseud..]

Simply amazing....tremedous flow and very polished...