Poem: Bus Ride

Please let it be, that it’s a joke,
played perfectly on April first.

Because standing at a bus stop,
I see a couple, breaking up.

Even in the dim moody light,
of a streetlamp, and the headlights,
of various cars hurrying home.
They look beautiful. Together.

But she takes one bus.
He’s waiting for another.
He sort of sighs and catches,
my eye and my bus.
Gets off at London Bridge.

And I am left, picking
up their carelessly strewn pieces.

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9 Responses to Poem: Bus Ride

  1. Aparna says:

    that was deeply moving, nehavish.


  2. Vijesh says:

    That was beautiful.. ๐Ÿ™‚


  3. radhika says:

    brilliant! i could just see them break-up from here!
    very well written ๐Ÿ™‚


  4. Siri says:

    Nice one Neha, concise and precise


  5. Shefaly says:

    Eavesdropping on others’ conversations again? Tut tut.. ๐Ÿ˜›

    This is why people in London avoid looking at others. Really. There is no private space. Paper thin walls in houses, sharp ears on bus stops.


  6. Divya says:

    You know, I have not been able to appreciate any poetry other than that of Ogden Nash, but your poems are extremely moving and paints a lovely picture (literally!). Hats off!


  7. Alex Vance says:

    Your poem has a great flow. It is simple and unoriginal, but not campy or cliche. I really enjoyed it.


  8. ashok says:

    brilliant the way u choose subjects for ur verses…


  9. Nikita says:

    I so enjoy these moving yet simple poems from you. Lovely writing!


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