This bus is for leaving.
A tug from its gallant pilot, dignified beyond reason, snaps shut the seal on a cargo of tattered luggage and slightly shattered souls.
The roar of its engine scatters the remnant demons of a particular past as wheels claw at their blacktop prey, surging forth, muscling aside what may have been, transporting the lost but not the losers, known mysteries, separate but equal, viewing life’s detached landscape jumbling past, telephone post by telephone post, rumbling onward to the thoughts of something new even if its more of the same.
This bus is for leaving,
Tears best left behind to cleanse of yesterday.
A posting from Kevin McGill’s The Possible Ks
Canadian Satire, Poetry, Social Justice Commentary & Inspiration
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