For DB

I see her every morning 

      In the crowded city bus

Always sits at the window seat 

      Holding her black shining purse 

Rarely she misses her daily stop,

    Only on days when she falls asleep

On many days she is found,

    Reflecting on thoughts too deep 

She always keeps the window open

     For the breeze to caress her pretty face

And for the rhythm of  the breeze

     To make her hair flutter like a silken lace

Never have I spoken to her 

     Hence I know not her name 

But to be lost in her rapturing smile

     Every single moment I am game 

Some mornings she is found 

      Blushing at her mobile's latest text

 On some others she is lost
        With her Rubik's cube she is vexed


Last week she had her friends for company
     To find her name, I eavesdropped
But all I could hear was her nickname - D.B.
     For she vanished, as the bus stopped.
      

 

Written for Poetics : 6 Billion Others.. at the dVersePoetsPub hosted by Brian Miller.