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.