With another morning
Comes another trip on the U buses,
For the love of all that’s academic.
Though I shouldn’t assume such consistency –
These buses are a capricious bunch.
Once the bus does roll to my stop,
And the bout of fear passes,
I get on safe in the knowledge
That my passage to work is secured,
Despite how used the air will become
A few stops later.
I’m always aware of the slog that I’ll meet,
Yet the bus ride always disarms me:
With its cosy heat wrapping
Restfully around my matted-clothed body;
Its smooth tremors, gently jolting
The muscles that have surrendered
To the seat’s leanings;
Its subtle sways thanks to the soft
Meanders found on this familiar course –
A course whose rhythm is
Flushed with more welcome than boredom,
As thoughts relinquish their
Hold on study,
Lulling my eyelids to closure.