Route 62

Route 62, the pink and purple bus

fading like a disappearing sunset,

which always passes

beneath a lamp which flickers –

the orange eye wearing a halo

of feathers, the seagulls too far

from the sea.

Homeward bound – bus ticket in hand,

paper turned redundant,

used and crumpled, left in a pocket

to fall into dust, into yesterday

as the sky blushes then bruises;

a ragdoll’s cheeks battered by time

and small hands, hands

which now paint the clouds

in the end of the day darkness.

Route 62 – my only way back

to the place I call home,

my return and my solace

found in the humming

of wheels upon tarmac;

the only time I see myself

as natural light fades

and pulls my face into the window.

Homeward bound – heart firmly held

between my two tired hands.


Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Signed copies on Etsy

Photograph taken by me.

8 thoughts on “Route 62

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