She sat as they stood, waiting.
The seated passengers in her row stood and drifted to rows behind to make space.
The driver’s hand twitched and tensed.
She sat.
The driver inhaled sharply,
grimly snapping the silence
that had forced the other passengers to stand.
She sat but was torn from the sharp metal seat,
torn from the jouncing and creaking
for trying to paint color into the monochrome.
Soon she sat behind cold bars
where her brushes were meant to splinter
and her colors meant to drain.
The driver’s hand twitched and tensed.
She sat.
The driver inhaled sharply,
grimly snapping the silence
that had forced the other passengers to stand.
She sat but was torn from the sharp metal seat,
torn from the jouncing and creaking
for trying to paint color into the monochrome.
Soon she sat behind cold bars
where her brushes were meant to splinter
and her colors meant to drain.
But
soon the torn monochrome world stitched its seams into a new canvas
brushes would
abandon the buses
storm and paint the streets
in a downpour of pigment.
Colors flood the monochrome
now forming a vibrant watercolor of blue and green.
She sat.
And now
the bus breathes in color.
brushes would
abandon the buses
storm and paint the streets
in a downpour of pigment.
Colors flood the monochrome
now forming a vibrant watercolor of blue and green.
She sat.
And now
the bus breathes in color.