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,

blinders on and earplugs in.

Poems by robert dickerson

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