I watch her from my front room window
a mysterious girl with raven black hair.
She stops in front of my house
everyday on the dot.
She looks
left and right,
glances at her watch,
and waits for the city bus.

Today it is raining
dreary, depressing, and grey
and the mysterious girl with the raven black hair
walks up to the stop.
She's holding an umbrella
a bright flower in a field of dust.
She looks
left and right,
glances at her watch,
and waits for the city bus.

The bus rumbles up
it's exhaust pipe spewing grey smoke
like an angry dragon.
The mysterious girl with raven black hair
shuts her umbrella,
shakes it out,
and steps onto the city bus.

I often wonder where she goes,
what sights she'll see
what people she'll meet.

I think back to the days when I used to
look left and right,
glance at my watch,
and wait for the city bus.

But then
the unmentionable thing
happened.

And I,
unlike the mysterious girl with raven black hair,
will never wait for a city bus
again.