Caricamento in corso...

Watching Icicles

A frigid morning, in a deserted bus stop
 
Shiv’ring, anxiously waiting for a ride back home
 
I’m all bundled up but still ice-chilled to the bone
 
Bitter cold I could feel my cheeks and eyelids throb
 
The bus real late, my poor teeth begin to chatter
 
Gloved hands, shaking, I tried to light a cigarette
 
But the Zippo in my front pocket I can’t get -
 
If the bus ain’t here soon, I’ll be a mad hatter!
 
And so I watched icicles melt to while the time
 
Dreaming of the tropical isle where I was born
 
Lo! Here’s the bus; it didn’t stop, then blew its horn
 
The bus was full, driver all smiles! oh what a slime!
 
11-05-2020
© F Aparici

This is a true story from my time living in New York City and working night shifts in a factory in Ridgefield,New Jersey. At 8:00AM I am on the bus stop (can't afford a car yet) waiting for a bus to go to Port Authority on 42nd St, thena subway ride to uptown Manhattan where I lived.

#2020

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