Bus Stop Summer
June to August 2011 has been a time of limbo:
of plastic bus stop booths
and sweat stains on the handle of my purse.
I waited for the bus, for twilight,
for the string of golden street lamps.
I waited at a silent drive-thru McDonald's
for a burger under the neon lights.
In my fishbowl room, in my parents' house
I waited for the storm.