The Bus You Rode On
星期三 二月 11, 2009 5:29 pm
I wish I could get on the bus you rode,
take a seat near you in the back,
study you for the whole lonely night.
I would have remembered your face,
when you shouted to go down to Florida.
The bus rode on and on in Manhattan,
The driver didn’t care what you said,
But I care, and always do,
many years after the ride in your poem.
I wish I could remove your blue raincoat,
tenderly wrap you by my warm arms.
Where these years have you been?
I wish I could follow you to the closing time
and dance like in the heaven.
If only I were as good as Suzanne was,
I would invite you down my river,
like an angel fish or a blue jay,
I would mirror your tidal pattern.
I wish I could tell you how crazy I am
And love you over the time.
But my bus refuses to take me there,
leaves me alone with this cold winter
and a wet raincoat.