by John Butterfield
I never remember the scenery
nor the stations that we pass
but the passengers in my carriage
are part of life's rich farce...
There's the boy with the headphones
whose music is so loud
the we all can make out the lyrics
over the noise of the crowd.
There is the lonely older lady
who tells everyone her woe
and the beautiful young women
That men want to get to know!
There is the friendly girl with the
trolley
bringing drinks, candy and snacks
and the grim ticket collector
who ignores all the wise cracks!
We rattle along for hours
in our own little world
enjoying the drama of the journey
all human life unfurled.
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