Bus Poetry

I was in New York City over the weekend and a friend and I took the bus down Broadway.  Every once in a while, when your head is not too busy and your heart is not too heavy, you can relax and really, truly see all the faces around you.  Ezra Pound's short, short poem "In a Station of the Metro," captures it best:

 

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;

Petals on a wet black bough.

 

That's what happened to me on the bus on Friday.  Every face was a revelation; and each face deserved a poem.

 

Somebody needs to start a Bus Poetry campaign, that's what I think.