No Bus
by clippedtrust
· 26/02/2026
Published 26/02/2026 11:41
The street, wet black.
Yellow light bleeds.
A bench, cold steel.
No bus proceeds.
Just waiting.
The slow drizzle.
No panic there.
Just a soft fizzle.
Of hope, maybe.
Of being met.
The long, quiet pull.
Nothing to get.
Woke up still cold.
The ache, a fine thread.
Not fear, just absence.
A silence instead.