I love the old bus,
with it’s egg-topped roof,
and big, puffy seats.
My Grandma would have sat here,
en route to middle school,
fresh off the boat from Vicenza.
Sitting here now,
I feel like Cahill,
traversing a Peruvian dirt road,
accompanied by Sherpas
and families with caged chickens,
heading to town
to have them slaughtered and sold.
with it’s egg-topped roof,
and big, puffy seats.
My Grandma would have sat here,
en route to middle school,
fresh off the boat from Vicenza.
Sitting here now,
I feel like Cahill,
traversing a Peruvian dirt road,
accompanied by Sherpas
and families with caged chickens,
heading to town
to have them slaughtered and sold.
posted by Matt at 10:57 AM
1 Comments:
It's funny that your Nonna Mary only made it as far as 8th grade. And back when she was a young woman, the busses she rode were powered by electrical cables that ran overhead and were connected to the cables like today's South Shore trains are.
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