Poem on a Bus

I go inside the electric line,
The dream of crows,
Stretched out like a trumpet note,
Upswing, blue, long as ten lives–
Swinging my arms, jouncing,
Flat as a stingray
In fizz of static pulse,
Not a place, but
Where I was always from.

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto