Bus Poem #12 Going Home - Poem by robert dickerson

Then there is the going home-
Not the great Going
that is never-ending,
but the little one.
Every day we do it. Like cows.

Statuesque or slack,
relaxed or prim,
shifting sidelong through space
often through sleet
and wind,
distracted-

blinders on and earplugs in.

Poems by robert dickerson

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