The Last Bus Ride

Copyright © Diane Chang Li-Ann

The red-white bus swallows us
together
for the last time.
time, now, to take a long hard look
at places we have passed many times,
but may never pass again

Hard to believe
I will never see you again
except in aging photographs.
(Looks fade,
but pictures merely yellow
and crisp with time)
Youth captured,
companions forever in stasis,
as we prepare to part.

the wind, scented with a potpourri
of PVC, frangipani and exhaust fumes,
ruffles my hair and yours

Was it just yesterday
when I first met you
or have I known you
all my life?

you stretch, leaning to reach the bell

I will miss
your laughter
the laughter you brought me
the tears and pain you always hid
(Who, now, will see and soothe them?)

I’m wishing this ride could go on forever
but the bus driver can’t possibly
know that and so the bus
lurches,
stops

I turn, to etch in my memory
one final image.

A smile falls gently across your face.

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