Life’s a bus queue

 
 
Dad was further up the bus queue
From me.

He caught one just now.
I’m still waiting.

Some wait in front of me
And some wait behind.

Number 37 or some such.

Don’t know where it goes
Or why it’s called that.

But we’re all waiting for it.

In a queue.

I didn’t see that he’d caught his bus
Until just now when the phone rang.

But then it is a long queue
And he was right up at the front of it.

I remember when he stood
Kicking the dirt right back here
Where I now stand.
Looking about him
And wondering what and why.
 
 

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  1. #1 by Debbie Heath on August 3, 2014 - 10:09 am

    That’s really poignant David.

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