Oct/Nov 2018 Poetry

Abandoned School Bus Blues

by Bob Bradshaw

Public domain image adapted by Tom Dooley

Abandoned School Bus Blues

Slumped in the overgrown weeds
is a bus where folks
once gathered
to shake the dust and heartaches out
from a week of working mines.

The band played in the rear,
the seats removed along with thoughts
of overdue mortgages.

The bus shook and rocked—hearts rising
and falling like pitching seas.

Today the bus broods like an old woman
on a sagging porch.
The trees stand around like her grown children,
on a corner, waiting to be picked up
for a job, any job, and knowing
there aren't any.

Once there was the driving rhythm
of bass and Dobro.
Now there's an old man,
sitting alone on the bus' steps, lost
in thoughts of first love
and Virginia Lee,

his heart like feet stomping,
hands clapping
to a Saturday night's
strong beat.


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