Friday, 3 October 2014

The Wasp Bus

A bus station in southern Spain.
Sitting on my back pack.
The dust and ice bites.

The white concourse,
one brown leaf
gliding on shining stone.

The bus arrives.
Yellow and black
it looks like an insect.

A wasp bus
that will carry us
away from the city,
the marble and mirrors
into the snow,
the black silence.
The white mountains.


  1. Jonathan, this is wonderful! My personal choice would always be the icy snows of the mountains. The muffled silence when the snow blankets the countryside. Modern least to me, are cold, no matter the season. Just a "personal choice" as I said.

    Thank you for stopping by my blog today and leaving a comment. I am taking a few days off from blogging. But I did want to check and see that my blogs were still there. They have disappeared for a time just recently...but this time all was well :)


    1. Thank you, Jan. I'm with you on that personal choice.

      I am really glad to have found your blog. Your work is beautiful.

      Thank you for the kind comment.



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