Girl on the Bus

We wait in the rain
for the 7 local,
me and the kid with
the purple hair.

I read my library book
and she stands off
to the side

I recognize the sweet clove
smell of Djarums
and remember the scented
breath of honey-haired boy
who broke my heart
for a month or two.

After we board,
she sits across from me
and scans her phone
and stares
out the dark window.

Her eyes,
lined with purple,
have not yet decided
to be happy
or unhappy.

She rises to get off
at the university.

I want to reach out
and tell her:

“There are a thousand ways
to have a happy ending,
most of which don’t
look like it
at the time.”

– Copyright Kay Winter

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