poetry of Bus

12/20
I saw a bus today
“poetry in motion” it said on the outside

Indeed, poetry floats,
Like the seagull bobs with the waves.
Glass ball travels many miles,
over the ocean to be found,
By a little girl on a far distant shore,
Sand crabs...scuttle around,
Pounding the shore waves spray mist,
With the deep orange sunset almost,
Deep as her mother’s orange in the bowl,
in the house in the painting,
Finished this morning.
Night’s final darkness sneaking away as,
Brightness makes its grand entrance.

On the bus
Sometimes it just sits
Sometimes, unexpected, unnoticed.

--Matt Crichton
12/20/07