Tonight's Poet Corner: Just Waiting For The Bus

Just Waiting For The Bus
by Belinda Roddie

Found a man cradling a bottle
in his arms like a baby, desperate
for a sip of something strong, while

his neighbor chomped on chunks of
dry Irish cheddar as she sat beneath
the flickering flickering flickering
flickering flickering stop light.

Two girls sipped sodas as clear as
water, and they were all waiting for
the northbound phantom to sweep
them up in its stained white and green
cloak, taking them to homes where

the beer was still cold and the food
was still good and the rain drizzled
like morning nectar into their mouths.