PublicTransport PoeTry – #9

*****

Last bus – First love

(Norman Morrow)

Flaming red hair, a tender touch I bid farewell
back then it knew no bounds
endless, forever it seemed
love-wrapped in sensuous delight
ambled to the bus stop.

Was he a steward of my heart?
a grinning soothsayer declined my outstretched hand
number seven coughed rancid fumes, it passed
to flaming love returned, embraced,
taxi driver nodded as I said goodbye.

Years roll over the dim recollections
other buses beckoned with a lover’s outstretched hand
the flaming hair of first love never lost
the memory in the corner of my eye
for other’s sweethearts number seven still rolls by.

*****

Norman Morrow was a child of the sixties, but too young to enjoy the excesses of that era. Born in the west of Ireland, he now lives outside Dublin with his wife and seven children, no room for cats or dogs.
Fly fishing has been a lifelong passion. He coaches underage Rugby and Hurling and spends most weekends driving the kids to matches.

 

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About angelikarust

My name is Angelika Rust. I was born in Vienna in 1977. These days, I live in Germany, with my husband, two children, a despotic couple of cats and a hyperactive dog. After having tried almost every possible job from pizza delivery girl to HR consultant, I now make a living knowing English. No, I haven’t yet figured out what I want to be when I grow up, whenever that may be. In the meantime, I write the occasional book.
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