Riding The Greyhound (Lessons Learned #25)

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Open Poetry #31

Riding The Greyhound (Lessons Learned #25)

jwesley
Member Rara Avis

since 2000-04-30

Posts 7563
Spring, Texas

0 posted 2004-02-17 08:01 PM

Riding The Greyhound
(Lessons Learned #25)

When the cross faded so much in the night
it was hard to see,
I finally got to my feet,
left you forever and
without saying goodbye
walked the mile or so to the highway.
Big Grey Dog was right on schedule: 9 p.m. – Northbound.
I flagged it down – you could back then you know,
flag the Greyhound down almost anywhere,
pay the passage and ride –  boarded,
took the only open seat near the back
alongside this little old woman
whose skin was so dark ,
she was hard to see with the interior lights off.
Without moving her head from where it rested
against the window, she said ,
“She loved you too, honey; she never said goodbye either.”
“What?” I said.
The old woman never moved, never spoke;
I leaned back, closed my eyes,
I was tired . . . hearing things.
Morning broke with the rising sun coming through the window,
I awoke with the old woman poking me in the ribs,
saying her stop was coming,
she needed to get off.
I stood in the aisle, let her,
and the little satchel she carried,
out of the seats,
and as she passed she grasped my hand,
looked into my eyes –
“She never said goodbye either, son, remember that.”
I watched her walk down the aisle
as Big Dog came to a stop.
She looked my way,
nodded, got off the bus.
I plopped into my seat wanting to be stunned,
but wasn’t,
and for the first time in the three years you’ve been gone,
I cried.
Neither of us
will ever say . . . Goodbye.

wesley james beard, jr.
(february 2004)

[This message has been edited by jwesley (02-17-2004 09:30 PM).]

garysgirl