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