It is winter.
I am on a bus.
This is the most efficient way home.
When I arrive, I will efficiently relax
and efficiently entertain myself.

The numerous participants of this bus
likely have similar plans.
Though we rattle in unison
like bottles in a six-pack,
Everyone wants nothing to do with everyone.

The bus is stopped at a light.
Two men are drenched in sunlight.
They cross, buffeted by fierce winds.
It is winter.
I am on a bus.

Among two men, four arms are occupied.
One is a shield, guarding from the sun.
One is a white cane, guarding from the earth.
Two are coupled, and together they cross.

The men are not related,
apart from their aged appearance.
They complete the crossing,
and one of the men lowers his hand.

Disability becomes ability,
and a caregiver is left reeling.
For generosity is most rewarding,
after unearthing one's humanity.