Bus dust

We waited for the bus that took us 
To the far off coconut trees in blue.
Uncle would come with his elbows 
On the open bus windows, his hair
Aloft on the speedy wind of the bus.
On the  front seat he seemed  boss.
Uncle was boss with all possibilities.

Beyond the green of  coconut trees
Were hills that held all  possibilities
Of bears descending nightly to eat
Sugar cane crop ripe for harvesting.
Bears loved sugarcane in the plains.
Farmers sleeping under  new moon
Did not love bears in thin moonlight.

Bus shelter stood with holes of eyes
Open to a sky that held possibilities
Of  rows of stars on moonless nights.
The shelter did not care for bus dust
Coming from the horizon  on a wind.
Right , the bus conductor would say
Glamorously, his  leather square bag
Hanging loosely with  ticket moneys.

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