Travelling Alone


I used to ride the Greyhound bus to Kitchener and Waterloo to visit my sister, and my friends from university. This, after a bit of tweaking, was how I occasionally felt in a bus full of strangers watching the world go by. It needs some more work but it’ll keep.

Travelling Alone

Watch the busiest highway in Canada:
It is dizzying, and tiring.
Where are they going in such a hurry?

The generic rented truck headed eastbound:
A man moving his only son back home
All the while disappointed that he dropped out.
‘Should have learned a trade, something useful,
Like your old man; take up plumbing.’

The westbound green van:
A gaggle of girls head into the city
Their first shopping trip downtown.
‘This is so great, turn up the radio Leanne.
I hope we can find decent parking.’

The red car taking the north offramp:
A tired grandmother on her third cigarette
Absentmindedly speaking on her cellphone.
‘Yes, I just got off work. I’m headed to the store.
I’ll pick up some dinner for you and your brother.’

The fancies occupy my mind so I can forget
Just how sad I am when I travel alone.

© Bridget Noonan, 2008, 2011.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s