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Night Bus

Rating: 5.0

Fallen dirty drunk onto a Greyhound bus,
a traveler stares into the conch shell
of a winter night and is is taken into
the hands of the deaf moon.

The bus reflects in the Mississippi River,
shimmers on the surface of the water
like a Huron bride raiding party.

My high school in that town i'm leaving:

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ben Paynter 27 December 2008

i will be honest, your opinions on poems and poets i have rarely agreed with, at least the ones i've run across so far, however, i have always enjoyed your poems, this remains a favorite. irony regards irony. ben

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Fred Babbin 30 June 2008

A quite intriguing piece of work.

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