Wednesday, January 1, 2014


Skinny dark skinned man
hauled two heavy suit cases
onto the city bus, year end dusk.
He asked the driver for his stop,
but language failed.  She could
not understand a word he said.
Alien sounds tangled in the air.
Whatever place he fought to name,
she could not take him there.
He flapped hands, raised voice.
Driver ordered him to sit.  He sat.
I watched helpless as he made
the sign of the cross three times.
Desperation evaporated. He looked
up and recognized a land mark,
smiled, rang bell for next stop,
left bus in peace, relief.  Maybe
miracles happen every day.  

1 comment:

  1. Oh, I am glad that he found the place where he wanted to go. It must be so awful (and such a helpless feeling) NOT to be able to be understood.