Confession of Bemusement

When the bus finally comes, a half hour late,
our chilly group piles on into the crowd.
There’s a retired gent with his cane, midway
back. I used to chat with him. Like now, loud
conversations entertained those around.
Hadn’t seen him since he moved. He smiles. I smile.
Troublemaker, I think, fondly. He’d clowned
and teased, joked and poked. It’s been a while.
I cling tightly to the bar as the bus
turns corners, pulls into base. Folks hussle
to the entrance. He stands to leave, adjusts.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, muscles!
Where did those muscles come from? My eyes blink.
He sucks in his gut, walks by, and winks.


3 responses to “Confession of Bemusement

  1. Hehehe

  2. šŸ˜‰ I needed a break from all the heavy ones.

  3. Pingback: Confession Series, 2012 #NaPoWriMo #30in30 | Rosefire Rising

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