The Bus Ride

Steam cladded windows blur the path ahead of us,

Clotted with condensation the layer precedes to cry with water droplets.

Clouded trees smudge past my irises.

With a fog of white, muted with the shadows of the tarmacked road.

Blue Corduroy coated seats and padded puffer jackets, neither keeping us from the metallic air.

Lights glare as we pass by, mindlessly with our thoughts of today.

We all are here together yet we couldn’t be further a-part.

I don’t care about you and you don’t care about me as we watch the same scene of the day’s sun setting and the questions that pass us by with a melancholic relief that neither you or I are the same and that even if we were.

We’ll never know.