The Bus Driver – A haibun

At 60 and after the death of my wife, my daytime and dreamtime is peopled with those who ride my transit bus.  Mostly poor and straggling, they are glad to see me.  I like that.  Some call me Frank, others Mr. Sloan.  I see Mrs. Gaines waiting up ahead and know that means a struggle to get her into my bus. She’s cheerful though and that makes up for the loss of time. Riders depend on my schedule, you see, and I try not to disappoint them.

 

Birds on limb singing

Seasons they do come and go

Moonlight sonata

 

 

 

About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 82 now.
This entry was posted in A mixed bag and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Bus Driver – A haibun

  1. Vivian Zems says:

    Love this haibun—- you painted a scene I could imagine myself in.

    Like

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