Thursday, December 03, 2015


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The Price of Passage
A Poem About Universal Need

She waits at
The intersection of flashing lights, 
Screaming horns, and angry breaks.
The hard cold bench
Has no compassion
In the little shelter
With its walls of rain,
And faded bus schedule.
She mines for coins
In the void of her purse
As unseen forces
Of civic command
Brings the bus.
"I can't while you find change."
The blind driver yells,
"I must stay on time."
And the bus launches 
Like acid smoke
From a trash burn.
She begins the slow march
Through a mingle
Of tears and rain
Toward her distant day;
Counting the steps of the hours
That measure the miles through
The splash of racing cars.
"Won't you come on board, miss?"
The horse voice calls from above
As the light of the open doors
Glitter through the falling droplets.
"I haven't enough to pay the fare."
"No mind you that, I have plenty for all."
And his hands, blistered by the drive,
Reaches to lift her up.


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(c) Adron Dozat 2015

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