My feet had no wings on them

My eyes saw not beyond the Sun;

The bus that rode in from behind

Did not ride off to another life,

And then she came.

Inside the bus, no one wept out;

Nor did clowns inside a circus make

Faces never made a kindly face,

And then she came.

Out on the road, no cows sang songs;

Their leaves in blushing no trees shed

I never thought of roads as sunlight’s morning bed,

And then she came.

The more it stopped the more I sighed.

And for more passengers, no room did I find

Wakeful I was not to their new slights,

And then she came.

My place on the bus is my place in the world.

From here I leaned out to see

The next passenger to take a seat,

The source of all this misery.

And so, onto the bus, she came.