It’s been many years since my daughter stood at the bus stop for her first day of school. In the more remote areas of the High Desert you can see for miles and watch vehicles approaching your area. Those big yellow buses, always a curiousity to younger children, grew ominous and scary as the time approached for them to climb aboard.
I can still hear their excited and nervous chatter in anticipation. But when it arrived, everything changed…
Little birds fluttering over the bus stop,
Soft eyes and smiles like hers.
Beating incessantly, flustered in waves
Within the wind’s tumbling gusts
As cars whiz by.
Joyous courage, wings of power
Driving onward beyond pavement
To the limitless sky.
It stops: the doors open in one swoosh,
a breath, a gasp.
Little birds, hovering once, at the point
Where hearts are torn and dreams are born.
By Rusty LaGrange © 1995
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