Day 20

A poem about traveling

Fashionably Late

Which jacket?
Black jacket...?
Blue jacket? Blue.

I think I may have forgotten..
No.
Out the door,
down the steps.

A cool breeze swirls
and the sun is happy to see
me as i listen to the sound
of the upcoming bus.

The bus?!

Change
hurried tempo
to
stilted run
dodge cars
in
intersections
rush
-ing
to The

motionless bus.


Now

where

is

my?Money!OhOk. Here!

The bus lurches and Somehow the
bar beside me steadys my fall.

quick pivot on the
toe of my left boot and
I am seated .

Three stops 'till There.

When aiming for
late, I'm always

On Time