A dirty shade flops against the window
Making feeble lopsided slaps at the sun
Out of reach of my correcting fingers.
Bloated wheels kick through the pavement
And ripple yellow lines, humming slumber
Into the coach seats.
The city follows with red light pauses. Beside me
A warm mouth rolls. "Why
Believe in fate? God lets bad things happen.
Lets good things go." Broke
College boy paying rent in his own red head. A green light
Throws his heavy voice under the roaring bus.
Black socks sighing down his hairy calves
And crisp black shoes whining to the footrest
Lie more still. A tongue spoils
The sole with sweaty fervor. A red
Light coaxes another brief kiss from the boy's spit-shined lips.
"Come home to find her waiting. Young
And green. Didn't know the ways of the world yet."
The sun climbs out of hiding again,
Doesn't know if he can stay strong this time. Gnarled
Trees scurry past our reflections.
Branches on the curbside elderly flail as we pass -
As if they've heard this story before, or read
The words as they passed in the frigid wind.
"No one else there. Only you two," the boy remarks,
"You see her and you ask yourself
If you believe in fate. And you close
Your eyes today and you see her hanging there still.
You close your eyes to blink and she is twelve and you are
The only ones in the house and the blood
On her tiny chin is striking red."