A bus driver's perspective. |
From my perspective on the bus, the first full day of school is like anxiety in tennis shoes, the blue of denim, burst of laughter, faces full of energy while getting on and off this ride. I drive to each appointed stop and with each squeal of brake, hear rapid feet as kids arrive like blurs in cotton tees, as if the real of life begins with transportation’s mien, a humble job, I realize, but one which bolsters me because of schooldays’ scene. I depart the school bus garage and run the engine, idling for diesel’s sake, then drive beneath the underpass to turn onto a residential street. I take their grins quite joyfully yet earn, I trust, some camaraderie as well when I return the grins as they find seats. With summer gone and solstice past, the bell of yet another school year chimes, and greets the life projecting life. On this first day, all colors are appropriate, as are the glimmer in the eyes along the way like morning sun or twinkle from a star. 24 Lines Writer’s Cramp August 24, 2013 |