I just edited a poem I wrote in 1982, it was published in Das Tor (image attached) in 1984, time to dust it off, eh? This one's for all of us who ride (or used to ride) the bus in San Francisco:
Bus Notes Glancing up from my hard-to-come-by window seat Her hands flipping pages slowly, Mouth intoning, she holds her squirming child Eyes rapt Feet wriggling LOVE Reading a story, like going to the circus Things bright and new Not like every day, seats worn shiny The worn handles grasped by many Riding the Muni to work or home Chinese ladies sport Polyester mismatches Pinks, oranges, squares, dots. Two dozen eggs crated, their white rounded tips pressing against clear orange cover How will she get those home? So many soft sleepy faces today. More than my usual morning share though, of handsome men on the 5 Fulton. Thin leather shoes with matching laces and tastefully wooden heels Leading to silver gray slacks The ever-present darker-than-navy blue sports jacket. Splash of gray in his carefully manicured mustache Active eyes, lids not lowered Unusual on this always sleepy bus with refined resigned faces Flash of white starched cuff Strides purposefully away. Did you know you were being sketched?
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AuthorCatherine G. Tripp writes for grownups, for the curious, for those who appreciate wry humor. Her work has been published in Pilcrow and Dagger, Wingless Dreamer, Reedsy, and she has read her work for several Zoom shows in 2020, including the Mask Monologues, Coffee and Grief and Creative Caffeine. Her recent writings and blog posts have been insightful, fast-paced, evocative essays about current events, and thought-provoking memoirs about the tangled branches of her family tree. Archives
March 2022
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