The City Bus ‘Ever Rolls

She looks down                                                          from the sea                                                                     of umbrellas                                                       boarding the bus                                                            in a heavy black spasm.                                                      that’s barely held back.
   
The city’s  lightning                                              reflects in her windshield,                                   echoes in the rear view mirror,                          prisms in the silver                                              shadow of the tires. 

For now, she’s relaxed,                                        almost peaceful,                                                     maybe near sleep,                                                          at least for this dead stop,                                        until the next dark stones roll,                                          forever pounding at her door.