Bus Story

Bus Story An empty bus is a husk When it starts on its route, gets into the groove of its journey Its rattling sides begin to prattle with chatter There are hurried goodbyes and hellos There are foreign tourists come to stalk the Royals Ticking their to-do boxes, like lists of shopping In summer, women sit with baskets of eggs Hikers and cyclists cram the boot with their gear The Bens and the river that flank the twining road Slide by like friendly kin, with lovely faces smiling After dark, the passengers change type Weary workers come on, go off shift From service industries in pubs and B & Bs After the dances end, drunks sit at the front Tugging at an open whisky flask like a teat On the back seat, courting couples Like vampires, chew each other's necks Inflicting bruises for gossips to spread tomorrow