Rush Hour
Moments between moments
One day at a time
Point A to Point B
Back to Point A
And then back to Point B
I try to understand it
The commute is long
The hours are so long, and so are the moments
I try to comprehend, to gain some insight
Bring a bit of perspective back home with me, maybe
The bus is huge; it's a situation
The drivers wave at each other; maybe they know each other
But then they always wave, and they smile sometimes
Rush hour, rush hour is coming to a halt
My feet fall in step with the rhythm of the road
And I can see my home in the distance
Maybe my home sees me too
Unsure, I wave to it, like the drivers do
What does it mean? Why do they do it?
Despite a response, despite an acknowledgement, they wave with blind faith
They don't really have to, but they do. They actually really don't need to
One moment, maybe half, to say hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow, thank you, I miss you
"I see you, I know you, I am here"
"I am here, too"
Before I know it, I'm home
And so is the perspective