I Never Look Into The Town Bus When I Board One... Poem by saranyan bee

I never look into the town bus
when I board one
to see who’s in.
It makes less sense
whoever is there -
I just need to move on
enough just to see,
if enough space is in there,
so I travel in the arms of silence.

I never look into the town bus
to check who is not there -
it is just that we all must move on-
whoever.
I have seen some pretend a hello
some acknowledge with a nod,
but I choose not to look around
when the bus moves on,
and though I have nothing to do.

Because there is nothing to do,
I rather not feel
the co-travelers
as part of my time or perception,
they are merely who occupy the nearness
as if life would solidify.
I never look into their eyes,
what sadness they carry,
the ambitions and thought that precede us.

Not even the driver’s,
whose eyes I guess are tired,
never look the driver in the eye –
because you can’t do a thing about it,
I am committed to his eyes though
for the safe voyage where I have to.
Is he the one who drove me
same time, same place –
yesterday, or one before!

Not looking at people
is a great occupation for me -
anyone in the bus,
I can count the number of people
whose heads I have not counted
though I travel by the town bus
day in and day out;
I get a queer idea I know them all
just as I don’t know any of them.

There was once I got into the town bus,
when hunger crawled over me,
the day you missed my meal or something,
I knew I must reach my destination
before I put an end to the agony!
The old man one on the next seat
offered me a trade off for his noisy slurps,
for he waved the pack of biscuits -
I shrugged a no or thanks.

I could have indulged myself -
which means looking into the bus
the next time - be dissolved
in the quagmire of connectivity,
with this guy or that gorgeous girl,
loose all that’s sublime in the seclusion.
I rather held my breath,
catching the aroma is annoyed connectivity,
if it’s bourbon or strawberry flavor.

I never look into the town bus
after I get down,
never the ones who get down
with me, there are always a few.
Some wave me a good bye!
Poor sods, I said, for I will be tomorrow
like they will be there too.
I don’t want to be certain,
which is why I never look into the town bus.