← v18n1, Spring 2019Poetry · Volume 18, Number 1
School Bus Brocade
To connect this viewless ride—
this core-rattling teeth shudder,
rear tire chains biting
frozen highway—to where she
has gone, a route I can neither
be on nor refuse, is light
balancing the slope of two points
before the wheels move. Who
reaches to wipe the window’s
compass in the passing buzz
pinetrees guardrails cowfence
laurel
