Small stones I have written as part of the July challenge http://aros-merlene.blogspot.com/ and comments from others have led to the creation of this poem.
The bus passes on the hour
carrying empty seats
of passengers on the road to nowhere
today I began my own journey
passing all stops along the route
in search of fellow travellers
at the cemetery terminus they boarded
the aroma of spent blooms
filling every seat
riding familiar streets
I look for my image in windows
staring back at empty seats
such is the destiny of the restless
on the Flying Dutchman omnibus
doomed to travel forever, unseen
I love the changes Merlene, and finally have something of possible worth to add.
ReplyDeleteCan line two read: "carrying seats of empty passengers", or something similar with better rhythm?
Emanuel