By Ty Kaufman
That winter eve the bus crept slowly
Down the frozen, snow-buried avenues.
The seats, old and tattered, shook vigorously
Vibrating loudly from the over-taxed coach.
The squealing of old, worn brakes
Brought the bus to a creeping halt.
Raising a clatter, the rusty doors opened
Letting in gusts of sub-zero winds.
A haggardly woman, looking bizarre,
Clumsily climbed aboard with her Hefty bag.
She plopped heavily into a ragged seat
Emitting a groan and a rude-sounding grunt.
Five or six others of similar stature
Sullenly occupied the bedraggled bus;
Traveling nowhere as they rode and rode
Down street after street.
Yet all were safe and well-protected
From the winter’s bite and the terrors of night.
Yes the scenario did seem more than odd;
Little did I know that their driver was God.
Copyright Homeless Grapevine Issue #10 Cleveland, OH