This is a bus that goes to a city I once lived in
A long time ago
Seeing passengers getting ready to board it
Brings back many memories
Memories of hopes that never materialized
And the blessings in disguise I now realize
Not many detours in life will be understood


The bus leaves, I stare at the inscription behind it
I imagine the places it will pass
The pedestrians that will be looking up vaguely
At the tainted windows
As the bus races through stretches 
Of vast savanna grasslands
Waiting for God knows when
Waiting for God knows what
Waiting, watching, like I am doing
Wondering sometimes what sense to make of all these