The night bus

The night bus
dropped me off here
nearly seventy years ago,
I watched it go, it’s warmth,
the smell of diesel
and it’s golden windows
disappearing into the night.

It wasn’t long before
the dawn came and I could
see where I was, but it
took me much longer
to work out why I was here.
I’m not complaining,
by and large  I have
risen to the challenge,
it wasn’t always easy
but I’ve had a lot of help,
now when I sit in the evenings
I sometimes think I can hear
the old bus coming to pick me up,
growling over the distant hills.

It’s got a way to come yet
but still I find myself
checking my pockets
to make sure I haven’t
lost my ticket.