Winter Transport

Waiting for the Bus,
Cold burns through the soles of my boots.
Crow cocks his head at my strange dance
in the narrow band of pale sunlight
streaming weakly between the buildings.

Sitting

something

a crumb.
a red rosehip.
this way.
shhhh.
sit and listen.

Pregnant pause

There is an air of anticipication in the lobby

the parents/chaperones of the large group of school children are milling about awaiting the children, now 20 minutes late.

I await just one. a girl. another 4 months or so...