I'm no longer afraid to share.
But today, someone else wins---
Once I wrote a song
Sixteen lines that walked
up from my belly to my head.
As I stood waiting for the light to change
and making up a melody,
a yellow bus passed by - slowly.
Looking up I lost the lines I thought I’d learned
and several more that never came
all because a bus passed by
and someone smiled from out a yellow window.
Buses pass by seldom
and horsemen not at all
I could not crib or fake your shoulders
if I once forgot the feel of them
and so each time I hold you
I test myself again.