Busriding to
the city limits,
I think of
Levertov’s Half-Way House,
lying just beyond
the city limits.
The bus ride is
uneventful—
I rest my head against
the window and count
the cross-hatched streets.
Lulled by the rhythmic
bump and shake
of the bus, I fall asleep.
In my dreamstate
self-consciousness overwhelms
me, and I am forced
to look in on my bus
from the street alongside,
and notice that I am alone
and will soon get off to walk.