Waiting Out Emptiness

The corner bus stop stands
marking the lonely road of Main Street

Hollowed seats
once knew restless love,
unemployed skills with hope,
tequila memories,
now a primary celebration

of graffiti and rain sheltering.

Waiting out emptiness

knows not of fulfillment

or much appreciation for reality.

Yet…

There are some

who trust and work at believing

a bus stop can also be a rewarding place

for contemplation,

a quiet confinement for reflecting,

for having a private conversation with self,

allowing the isolation to be an invitation

to allowing the real you of long ago.,

to once again be the person born of potential.

Meanwhile…

Stillness gathers,
while the penthouse-cat purrs, cleans,
luxuriates beneath the bejeweled stroke of privilege.