Long Bus Ride Poem by William McGehee

The window, she shows me the surface of towns
The lives that I pass unaware, unprofound
A ripple disturbing the flow not at all
We float on the highway awash in the sound.

And wonder, I do, at each brick in each wall:
What live had spent effort to stand it so tall?
And passing I ponder how I have spent mine.
Then drift into sleep as I start to recall

Soon dreams and old memories begin to entwine
With Music replacing the engines low whine.
I see things again as when I was young
The faces of friends in slumber's confine

And moving between them, now in and among
The deams and the memories, the future is flung:
A song in the morning that's yet to be sung
And waking it's flies from the tip of my tongue.