Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
Waiting for the Bus

No comments

I hear a cheerful shout and pull back the curtain.

Like a spy, I watch him.
He's waiting for the bus; fine!

The bus stop is on the corner, next
to my bedroom window.
Dejected is the spy, yes I, though glorious
is the morning sunlight filtering
through the branches of the trees outside
my cozy apartment.

He's crazy. He's living
in the past. The old fool rubs
his hands together, takes
the invisible baseball bat,
lovingly
lays it across his shoulder,
talks to a coach only he sees, waiting
on a ghost pitcher, a fast ball
from 40 years ago.

While he, this ragged stranger, is waiting
for the bus that will take him
to the shelter, or the crack house,
or maybe even to his family,
to a child or a woman who loves him

I wait for a bus,
the one I've been waiting
on for a year,

the one that will take
me to the end of my life,
my child, an athlete,
his suicide my ticket.

I smile, a forgotten feeling,
as the stranger,
unaware of me watching
changes sports, cheering.
Years fall away as he jumps
his invisible basketball sailing
through the crisp morning air.


Denise Kincy is the mother of Justin, 27, and Clint, 31– deceased — and grandmother to Colton, Madeline, and Lucy. Her poetry, articles, essays, and fiction have appeared in over 35 online or print publications. A 2005 Pushcart nominee, Denise�s YA novel �The Sun Shines on Maddy Weaver� is being shopped to publishers as she works on her first memoir.


More from



Comments are now closed for this piece.