Trip Without Destination

She calls out his name
The brown sedan keeps driving
There shines no brake lights

She sits, cold concrete
Does not want to move or talk
He is gone for good

Motor sounds, smell of exhaust
Many shoes crunching endless paths
A bus pulls up, stops

She looks, driver smiles
Doors open and then breathes warm air
Standing, life goes on

Leaden feet carry her
Up three steps, walk down the aisle
Bus seat is grimy

Long hours pass the day
Trip without destination
She stares out window

Familiar streets now
She gets off the bus, walking
Shock, his car is home

Running to the door
He meets her in the doorway
The love is still there

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