Girl on a Bus

South London,1970.

A moment of epiphany

on the bus number one-two-two.

Shattering brittle not melting,

a glass man not foreign to ice.

Windows bursting with light.

A head turner, a child saying a bad word

as he jumps on to the pavement .

You are as hazy as an old portrait,

a soft goddess in a grubby school uniform.

(There are no simple answers,but I do not accept

victimhood as my identity).

Two stops later you got off.

Death moved forward ten minutes in my direction.

Shadowless in bright sunshine.

Reviews

[Empirik]

I really enjoy this descriptive instance. Smart structure and clear with points I could relate to. It left me wondering if the great realization was foreseeing the future moment after you get off the bus. Interesting! I am also looking forward to reading more. Cheers! :)

[Blindfolded]

I can completely relate to this poem. I had so many good and bad memories on the school bus. A wonderful read and write.

[s.r.knight]

This is creepy because I used to take the 122 bus to school all the time. But I really enjoyed this piece! Lovely work.

[?]

Wonderful and very unigue piece...loved the discriptions in this.

[Allen Smuckler]

Sounds like a "Twilight Zone" episode...narrated by Rod Serling.
Wonderful, descriptive and a bit eerie.
I felt I was riding bus 122 with you...in black and white...of course
and felt ITS presence...
Well done Leslie
allen

[reema]

xtremely unique piece of writing..looking fwd 2 read more :)

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

this one hit home in places, maybe not the obvious ones
I just know...
when a poem from a stranger can make me cry
then I know that person has transformed pain
and wrapped it with care and placed it under my tree

it's times like these I know the grim reaper
has a designer heart and a pocket watch
and he's a Senoi Native kissing the forehead
of a daydream

[SoulCrusader (Yas)]

This poem is exactly what Ilike to read...
superb :)

[Ed Hart]

my goodness, you've got the stuff

[Chris]

A word photograph of more than an instant... a poets true use is capturing a flow of any then into a forever now.