Bus Stop

Bus Ride

The cold breeze caresses my face
I sneeze out quietly, hiding my mask.
Its yellow light signals to me,
To ride with it home is its task.

Its doors open, like gates of Troy,
And I show my permission. I enter
The bus, warm, soothing and cozy
Shielding me from the freezing winter.

The winds that turn the leaves to gold,
Strike the bus with its golden touch.
The night of darkness now unfolds,
Plunging the bus to its hutch.

Protected, I shut my eyes,
Hoping to arrive home soon. I fell asleep…